


Accidents and Consequences

by quicksilver_nightsky



Series: A to O of Life [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha Noctis Lucis Caelum, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Discussion of Abortion, Financial Issues, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Ignis Scientia, Omega Prompto Argentum, Past Rape/Non-con, Secret Relationship, supportive friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-26 06:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilver_nightsky/pseuds/quicksilver_nightsky
Summary: Prompto swallowed and started gently swaying again. “I’m gonna have it.”“Regardless of what decision you make when the time comes, Prompto,” Ignis said seriously. “You have to deal with the reality of the fact that, in all likelihood, you’re going to give birth to the child of the future King of Lucis.”He came to a stop, heels of his shoes scraping roughly in the sand. “...fuck.”





	1. Secrecy

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> Discussions on the nature of consent as per reference to the previous entry in this series.  
> Attempted abortion, discussion of past abortion.  
> Close call on a preterm labour/miscarriage

Prompto didn't like the looks his boss kept giving him, the irritated sniffs she kept giving the air. It was weird, and uncomfortable. And he was glad to go on his lunch break. 

While he messed around on Instagram, a phonecall popped up from Iggy. He swallowed as he picked it up. "Iggy? Is everyone okay?" 

"Of course," the advisor reassured him, calm. "I was only calling to check up on you. To ask how your last few days were." 

He wrinkled his face up in confusion, "Uh. They were fine…? Why wouldn't they be?" 

"Well, it was your regulated heat, wasn't it?" Ignis asked, his tone gentle with reminder. 

"Uh…" He flicked to his O-Wellness App. "Uh…" It _had_ been his scheduled heat. But he hadn't had it. The last time he had been in heat - he scrolled up to check - had been… his unregulated heat… that he shared with Noct. Two and a half months ago. "Oh gods…" He choked. 

One hand drifted down under the hem of his shirt, pressing against his stomach until he felt a round, firm lump under his fingertips. 

"Oh **fuck**." 

"Prompto?" Ignis asked, his voice not quite _frantic_ , but there was a hastiness to his tone. 

"Iggy," he said, anxiety crawling up his throat. "I didn't have one. I _haven't_ had one since… since…" 

"Eleven weeks ago?" Ignis said quietly. 

"Oh, Ramuh's _belt_ ," he said, breathing coming fast and shallow. "Iggy - _Iggy_ , what am I supposed to _do_? I can't- I can't-" 

"Breathe! Prompto, _breathe_." There was the sound of movement on the other line. "I'm going to come pick you up from work, and I'll take you to the O-Clinic. We need to _confirm_ before we can decide any course of action." 

***

"Would you like to see, Mr Argentum?" The friendly midwife asked. 

He felt the ultrasound wand shifting through the freezing cold lube on his stomach and clenched his eyes shut. "No," he said emphatically, even going so far as to turn his face away. "No. No, I _can't_." 

"Okay, dear." She spoke to Ignis then, murmuring quietly about different things he didn't want to know. Things he couldn't hear. She finished up and gave him a tissue to wipe his abdomen clean. "Shall I book you in to the Obstetrician?" She asked pleasantly. 

"No," he said quietly. "I'm going to have an abortion." 

There was a tense pause - the midwife looked at Ignis in askance. 

"Don't look at me," he said with a slight frown. "It's not my bodily autonomy. If that's what he's asked for, then book the appointment." 

She had a little disapproving purse of her lips but she nodded and turned to her appointment books. "You're eleven weeks along and the legal cut off is fourteen weeks," she explained. "But we have a two week waiting period as per the law, to ensure you're quite decided on the matter." She penned a date and time onto a card. "If you change your mind on the date, that's it Mr Argentum. With how far along you are, you won't get another option." 

He nodded. "I'm not going to change my mind." 

She nodded and passed him a stapled stack of paper. "Read and sign this waiver. Initial every paragraph and sign the bottom of every page." 

It was time consuming but he did, and then they left the room with the midwife's eyes on their back. 

Prompto fiddled with the card as they walked out, feeling queasy and unsettled. 

Ignis paused by the shelter, tucking his coat properly over his collar. "Are you going to tell Noct?" He asked. 

"...no," he said after a moment's thought. "It's not gonna matter in fourteen days anyway," he mumbled. "There'd be no point." 

Ignis nodded and opened up the large umbrella, holding it over Prompto's head as he led him over to the car. 

Sitting in the passenger seat, he watched rivulets of rain run down the window. "Are you disgusted with me?" He asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer. 

"I'm not," Ignis replied decidedly. "And if I was, it would be rather hypocritical of me." 

Prompto turned to gaze at him in disbelief. "You…?" 

"Twice," he admitted softly, turning down the side street. "Once, when I was sixteen, simply because I was far too young to consider fatherhood." He parked the car in front of Prompto's dilapidated building. "And the second time when I was nineteen. Gladiolus and I decided that the timing wasn't right." 

"Oh." He looked at his feet. "You think I should tell Noct?" 

"I have yet to tell Gladio about the first instance," he replied. He didn't offer any other explanation. "You have groceries?" 

"Don't mother me, Iggy," he said with a fond roll of his eyes. "But… thanks. For today. I don't know what I would do without you, buddy." 

"Suffer a significantly larger amount than you currently do," the advisor answered with a smile. "I'll take you to your appointment. I'll be with you as long as you need me." 

***

It was some sort of cruel decision that the O-Clinic didn't have a separate waiting room for him. He sat beside Ignis on the hard plastic seats, knee jumping anxiously, feeling how dry his mouth was. 

Across the aisle, an angry omega woman was shouting on the phone, bouncing a wailing toddler on her hip. Iggy seemed not to hear it, still except for the occasional turn of the National Geographic magazine in his hands. It was a surprisingly recent copy - only two years old. 

_I'd be a better parent than her_ , Prompto thought, staring down hard at the same page of yesterday's newspaper he'd had open for ten minutes. He shook the words off stubbornly. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. He wasn't about to find out. 

The woman with the wailing baby finally got called and she stood, walking briskly over to the open procedure room. 

Once she left, he could see another O across the other section of seats. He was smiling blissfully, hands rubbing across the huge, nearly-time expanse of his belly. 

See, that was someone ready and willing to have a baby! 

He dropped his eyes down to his own stomach. It really wasn't noticeable, but he couldn't help thinking the small round bump was bursting huge out of his abdomen. Like the monster from Alien. 

Another O came out of one of the check-up rooms, sniffling to herself and hurrying towards the door without talking to the receptionist. He felt something squirm guiltily in his chest, and tried to focus on the newspaper again. 

He couldn't refocus. He looked over at his buddy and hissed: "Iggy… am I doing the right thing?" 

"I cannot make that judgement call for you," Ignis answered calmly. "I am here to support your decision, but I shan't make it for you." 

Prompto squirmed back into his seat. Gave up on his newspaper and looked around the different posters around the walls. A brightly coloured one about STI screenings. One with a smiling couple that was about prostate and breast checks. A shelf with a bowl of shiny silver condom packets. A plain poster about O-Tabs v The Pill that demanded the reader: _Consider Your Options_! 

Agitated, he turned his face away to look out the window instead. He **had** considered his options, thank you very much. And he'd made his choice. So here he was - nipping this thing in the bud, as Juno had put it in that movie. 

His life was a mess, he lived in the shittiest apartment in the world. He couponed like a suburban mom to afford food every week. He was barely covering the interest on his credit card debts. He was a dirty Niff and the only reason he'd even gotten pregnant was because he'd fucked his best friend and accidentally mated - and then screwed over his whole system getting it dangerously severed. Noct didn't actually want to be with him, he'd only helped him out through an unregulated Heat because there hadn't been any real other option. 

He could not have this baby. 

He just couldn't. 

"Prompto Argentum!" 

His head jolted up at the sound of his name. A procedure nurse in scrubs was waiting in the doorway of the back hall. He got unsteadily to his feet, and Ignis was up - beside him, one hand on his back to steady him. 

He took one step, then another, more and more until he was a few feet away from the nurse. 

And then his feet stopped moving. Stone cold clarity hit him in the face like one of Gladio's fists. "I'm sorry," he said calmly. "I've made a mistake. I can't do this." 

And then very calmly, the turned on his heel and walked out of the O-Clinic. 

  


Iggy found him ten minutes later, swaying back and forth on a swing set, watching a crowd of children clamber over a rope climbing frame. The advisor sunk calmly into the plastic butt scoop beside him. "Well. That's that decision made." 

He slowed to a stop, feet scuffing against the sand. "You think I made a mistake?" 

"It's when they are put to the test that our true convictions stand," Ignis answered instead. "If you decide this was a mistake or not, I'm afraid it makes no difference now. You're thirteen weeks, and you cannot fit in another waiting period." 

Prompto swallowed and started gently swaying again. "I'm gonna have it." 

"Regardless of what decision you make when the time comes, Prompto," Ignis said seriously. "You have to deal with the reality of the fact that, in all likelihood, you're going to give birth to the child of the future King of Lucis." 

He came to a stop, heels of his shoes scraping roughly in the sand. "...fuck." 

***

Gladio was sat on the floor, fighting with the assembly instructions for a new bed frame. "You know you can't keep living here when the baby is born, right?" He grumbled, turning the page upside down as if that would help the matter. 

"It'll be fine," Prompto argued, glaring at his bowl of leafy greens. "For a little while anyway. It's up to code, and there's no mould. I don't really have to worry until they start to sit up." 

The Shield sniffed in disapproval. "This whole building should be _condemned_ , Prompto." 

"Whatever dude," he dismissed, pushing away his salad and leaning on one hand. "It's all facade damage, and it keeps the rent down." 

Gladio squinted at him. "You're not doing that bad, right…?" He asked. "I know the Crownsguard Pension isn't much, but you've got that part time at the camera shop." 

"For how long?" He asked dismissively. "You know parental leave laws are crappy and companies actually being made to comply is sketch right?" 

There was only the sound of a screw being turned with an Allen key for a moment. "You thought about telling His Highness any more?" Gladio asked instead. 

"No." 

"Just saying. If you do, it'll be all official and Iggy can hook you up with somewhere to live closer by," he pointed out. 

"Right. The prince's ex-rapist, ex-mate, ex-friend, baby 'mega. Gee, wonder what prime real estate that gets me. A suite in the Dungeons? Ooh, or a room in The Tower with a view of the city I'll never be able to go out in again." 

"Don't be dramatic, Prompto. This isn't the third centur- Wait. Did you just say _rapist_?" He repeated in disbelief, turning to look at him. 

Prompto waved a hand. "Caem. Depends on who you ask." He folded his arms over his chest protectively. "My point is. I'm not Noct's mate, and I'm not even nobility. What's left for a dude carrying a royal bastard? Can't exactly be his Official Man-Mistress, can I? Like you said, it's not the third century." 

"They're called Deliciums," Gladio replied. "And King Mors had two. One he mated, the other he didn't." 

"Well he can't even mate me, so it's moot point. I don't even know if I _will_ tell Noct." 

"Say what you will about Noct's intelligence, Prompto, but even _he_ can count back nine months. You won't be able to hide it once the kid is born." 

"I could skip the country," he offered instead. 

"That's probably treason and if you were planning to, I wouldn't want to know so I could have plausible deniability," Gladio said pointedly. He heaved the bed frame up onto its feet and began attaching the cushioned bedhead. "Look, obviously all this shit is your decision Prompto. But there's going to be a baby. A literal, human baby - not just a hypothetical one. Even if he didn't have legal _rights_ \- which he does, by the way, once they're born - morally he should still at least know about them." 

"Noct's got a life ahead of him. He's gonna be a badass king of a whole fricking country. He doesn't have to worry about me or any accidents he caused." 

Gladio looked up in the middle of fastening in a screw. "He misses you, you know? You're still his best friend, in his mind." He stood and heaved up the memory foam, posture support mattress. "Anyway. I don't think he considers what he did for you in your heat as _an accident_." 

"Just leave it alone, Gladio." 

"Whatever you say. Gonna come try this bad boy out?" 

***

"Those men were looking for you again," Prompto's boss groused. "It ain't good for business, y'know? Having them tough types stopping by, asking about my employees, about credit loans, and debt collection!" 

He pushed his clock-in card into the clock-out slot and slid it back into the holder. "I'm sorry, boss," he replied. Six, his back hurt. Even with the fancy new bed, a _certain someone_ had decided that his **spine** wasn't the best place for feet to go. 

"Y'know," she continued. "The busy season is slowing down. With your _condition_ ," she eyed his stomach with distaste, "why don't we finish you up? You can focus on preparing for your new life." 

Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. He tugged the baggy hoodie on over his work shirt. What could he even do? "I'm on the roster for the rest of the week." 

She gave him a nasty smile. "Oh don't worry, I'll fill your shifts. You take care of yourself and anything else you're responsible for." She turned to walk towards the shop door. "I'll mail your last cheque." 

Prompto made it as far as the subway station before he was sinking into a wooden bench. Well that was that. He'd known it was coming - she hated single parents more than she hated male Os. She was a _traditionalist_ , thought he should be in his A's kitchen taking care of the household, and not be seen in public in his condition. He'd been doomed since it had given away his secondary orientation. 

"Well, there's no point sitting around moping!" he scolded himself, easing himself to his feet. He pushed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, laying his fingers over the ever-growing bump. "Wanna go visit your godfathers?" He got a jab to his kidney in answer. "Taking that as a yes." 

  


Gladio and Iggy were having a serious discussion when he let himself into the former's meeting room. 

"-am only saying that he'll be twenty-one years old. It won't be long before the council starts ' _worrying_ ' about the line of succession." 

He paused in the doorway, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Gladio's secretary had told him to go in. But they were having a serious business talk. 

"Yeah and what's your plan here, babe? Get some omega to mate him out of convenience? An arranged marriage?" 

"I thought perhaps Princess Lunafreya…" 

"-Is very much enjoying herself with Lady Aranea Highwind." 

"Well, there goes my second suggestion. Blast. What are we going to do, love?" 

"You know… there's a pretty easy solution on hand about the line of succession." 

Aaaand that was his cue. "My ears are burning!" he declared, coming around the corner. 

Ignis quickly stood, trying to make it less obvious they had been cuddling on the couch. "Prompto! What are you doing here…?" 

"Came to say hi." 

"You didn't walk did you?" Gladio asked suspiciously. 

"Took the subway," he corrected, letting Iggy ease him into the comfy armchair. 

"It really would make me feel more assured of your safety if you allowed me to send you a driver in future," Ignis said, returning to sit beside Gladio. Nowhere near as close as before though. "So. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" 

He fiddled with a loose thread inside his pocket. "I was wondering if… if I could be reinstated back into the Crownsguard for a couple months?" 

Gladio leaned forward. "Those bastards fire you?" 

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter." 

The Shield sat back with a huff. "I'd love to say yeah," he replied. "But the marshal would have to give you a physical fitness test. We can't let pregnant Os on the guard, it's against the code of conduct." 

Prompto slumped. "Right." 

"Prompto, if this is about money matters…" Iggy trailed off at a look from his partner. 

Gladio followed up instead. "You know. There is a position available. Excellent benefits, accommodation and board included." 

He perked up. "Oh, yeah?" He asked eagerly. "What would I have to do?" 

Gladio gave him a deadpan look. "Tell Noct what's going on." 

He cringed. "Oh. That's what you meant." He curled up a little, pressing his fingers against his bump. "Kinda a jerk move to get a pregnant O's hopes up, Gladio." 

Before either of them could respond, the door was thrown open. "Gladio, you in here?" Prompto froze as he recognised Noct's voice. "You free for a workout? I need to hit something." He turned around the corner and they were all silent as he took in their guest. Prompto was tense, not knowing what kind of greeting to expect. "Prom!" he said eagerly, sweeping over and sitting on the edge of his armrest. "Dude, where've you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in _months_!" 

He grinned up at the prince. Gods, he missed Noct. But his stomach was twisting up with nerves and guilt, reminding him exactly _why_ he'd been avoiding his former bestie. "Yeah, well. _Someone_ 's been busy learning how to run the country!" 

Noct groaned playfully and shifted - "shove over!" - so he was sitting next to Prompto on the armchair. 

He stiffened a moment, terrified Noct would somehow _smell_ it on him. But he quickly relaxed into his buddy's side. "How's Lucis?" 

"It's fine. Usually is." He reached up to mess his hair. "You look good, Prom. Your hair's all shiny and you've got this, like, glow. You on new regulators?" 

Ignis just pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something about idiot princes. Then he cleared his throat. "Prompto was just commiserating about losing his job." 

" _Sucks_ ," Noct agreed. He sat up, his eyes sparkling in excitement. "Dude. Why don't we go out and get wasted? The four of us? It'll be just like old times." 

"...can't," Prompto managed out, a little strangled. He cleared his throat. "I mean…" 

"What, it reacts badly with your regulators? That sucks." He rested his head on Prompto's shoulder for a moment. "Well… dinner?" He suggested instead. "There's this new sushi place just opened up near my old place!" Gods, he was so excited about raw fish. 

Yet another thing Prompto couldn't have and didn't want to explain why. 

"Highness," Ignis said with all seriousness. "You promised your father to attend a dinner with the delegates from Galahd tonight." 

Yes, thank fuck. Iggy to the rescue! 

Noct groaned. "I did too. Sorry, Prom. Raincheck?" 

"Course," he agreed. He stood carefully, keeping his hands in his pockets. "Well. I should be getting back home." 

"I'll drive you," Gladio volunteered, standing alongside Iggy. "Gotta pick Iris up from her kickboxing classes anyway." 

"Thanks, Gladio," Noct said, heaving himself up to his feet as if it was the hardest task in the world. "Well, see you soon, buddy." He pulled Prompto into a hug. 

But it didn't feel like their bro hugs in the past. There was something extra tight in his hold, a new closeness with their bodies pressed together even more. It made Prompto's heart flutter, and his guts twist. 

"Miss you, Prom," Noct whispered, nosing into his ear so the words couldn't escape. "Come visit me soon, please? I'll make time for you." 

Prompto reluctantly pulled away. It had to be pregnancy hormones right? That made him feel like he wanted to melt into Noct's arms and never, ever leave? 

He gave his old buddy one of his brightest grins and a nod. A promise without words he had no intentions of keeping. 

***

"Gladiolus and I have a confession to make," Ignis announced. 

Prompto paused half-way through putting the groceries that they had bought away. With an anxious swallow, he turned to look at them. "O-oh? Sounds serious, haha." Smooth, Argentum. Real smooth. 

"It's about the events at Cape Caem," the advisor continued calmly. 

A sick jolt twisted through his stomach. Placing a hand over his rounded belly - even his hoodie couldn't really hide his condition any more - he sunk into one of his kitchen stools. "Oh." 

"We're loath to bring it up, especially after all this time," Ignis explained. 

Gladio interrupted smoothly: "But I just found out what you think about it, and Iggy thought you'd reconciled it ages ago." 

He swallowed, looking between them. Was he going to jail? "Okay." 

"When Gladiolus and I left on our errand to collect herbs-" 

"We knew what we were doing," Gladio interrupted again. "There were no plants, Prompto. We left to give you and Noct some privacy." 

He stared at them. He was throbbing with his own pulse, trying hard to take in their words. "You… what?" 

"That is to say," Ignis continued, "We all knew what Noctis needed to survive the heat. It couldn't be me, and he had already expressed his discomfort with the idea of Gladio's assistance. Our vacating the premises was a mere excuse to give you the privacy we thought you were waiting for." 

He clenched his hands into fists. "You purposefully left Noct alone so he could be _raped_?!" 

"You have **gotta** stop using that word, Six," Gladio growled. 

"Gladiolus," Ignis warned coolly. 

The Shield huffed and stood up, heading to the other side of Prompto's apartment to pace out his temper. 

"You must understand the trust we were putting in you, Prompto," he continued gently. "By all of our judgements, you were the one person we thought Noct would most like to see him through his rut." 

"Except you," he deadpanned. 

Ignis cringed a little at the reminder. "Well, yes." He shifted on his stool, then gave Prompto a long, gentle look. "You must comprehend, Prompto. That if we left you alone with the assumption about what you were to do, we can't have seen the...moral qualm that you have felt it to be for the past year." 

He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and then let it out. "I can respect that," he ground out. "But it's not really _your_ opinion that matters about it." 

"No," Ignis agreed. He sipped his can of Ebony calmly. "The one person whose opinion actually decides the line is _Noctis_." 

He turned away, stomach squirming with guilt. "I guess." 

"And I will inform you now, as we didn't believe necessary to do at the time, that when we spoke to Noctis on the matter recently, that he doesn't see the event in the same way you do _whatsoever_." 

He took a shaky breath. "I know," he said quietly. "After my heat. We fought about it." 

"He mentioned you had a discussion," Ignis conceded. His fingers drummed on the edge of his can for a moment. "But you still…?" 

"Just because Noct is _okay with it_ doesn't mean he gave consent at the time, Ignis!" he snapped, stomach rolling with guilt and self-loathing. "And it doesn't change that I still did it, when he couldn't say yes or no either way!" 

"But he would have said yes," Gladio grunted, coming back to the kitchen area as their talk escalated into argument. "He was pretty stubborn about that fact when we brought it up." 

"Hypotheticals after the fact don't change what actually happened!" Prompto said, scowling down at his scuffed countertop. "What I _did_." He pressed his hand against his rounded belly, and felt _sick_. 

Very carefully, Ignis reached forward to touch his free hand. "This is why you continue to be hesitant about informing Noctis of the pregnancy, isn't it?" He asked, his voice soft and non-judgemental. 

He cringed and swallowed. "Maybe," he agreed. "His _rapist_ is carrying his baby. How sick is that?" 

Gladio gave an agitated little grunt. But he didn't say anything. 

Ignis sighed. "I thought that may be the reason," he added quietly. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze and withdrew. "Prompto I won't dictate the timing to you," he said calmly. "But I can't in good conscience - and by law, for that matter - continue to keep him in the dark after the baby is born." 

"I know," he said, closing his eyes. "I know. I've gotta tell him, I just… I just don't know how to do that." 

"Iggy," Gladio said reluctantly. "We have to go. The party planner?" 

"Ah. Yes. My apologies, Prompto. We must-" 

"I know. Noct's fancy ball." He waved them away easily and stood to accompany them to the door. 

Ignis paused at the door, turning to look at him as he adjusted the collar of his coat. "Prompto," he said gently. "I can see that all we've discussed on the matter doesn't make your opinion on Caem different," he said in a low, gentle voice. "But if you can't allow it to absolve your perceived sins… do you think it might be enough for you to finally forgive yourself?" 

Prompto gave him a half-hearted smile. "It's cool that you all don't hate me for it," he answered, "I'll work on me too." 

Ignis touched his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, before nodding goodbye and heading after Gladio. 

***

When he came home, the door was busted open and there were strange men in his apartment. A-types, if not actual As. Huge with bulking muscles and fists the size of...really big fists. The apartment was an absolute mess, all his stuff trashed and thrown onto the floor to be trampled on. The groceries and the kitchen had been torn apart, crumbs and ripped packaging littering every surface. 

"Prompto Argentum," One said nastily. "We've been looking for you." 

Two stood up from his kitchen stool, cracking his knuckles. "You've defaulted on your minimum monthly repayments twice now." 

"You make it sound like I killed a guy," he choked. "It was only twice." 

"The Imperial Bank doesn't take kindly to people trying to run away from their debts." 

He knew he shouldn't have gone through their debt consolidation plan, instead of the Royal Bank of Insomnia. But their interest rates had been lower and he'd thought he might be out of their jurisdiction here in the city. He'd learned real quick he'd been wrong. 

"We know you lost your job," One continued. He said it nastily, like it was an act Prompto had done on purpose. 

"But you've still got that comfy little Royal Pension you're sitting on," Two continued, baring blackened teeth. "You see, the Imperial Bank doesn't like it when your income can cover repayments, but you choose _not to_." 

Prompto swallowed. "It barely covers my _living expenses_!" he hissed at them, one hand going round to protectively cover his rounded belly. 

One only grinned, his teeth shockingly white and straight. "The Imperial Bank thinks you should reconsider your financial priorities," he warned. "You're still a citizen of Niflheim, even under refugee status," he continued. "The Imperial Bank can relocate your living conditions if it feels you're trying to escape your debts." 

Two grinned at him. "You ever seen the inside of a Workhouse, Argentum?" He asked. "And your baby? **If** it lives long enough to be born, we'll secure it a nice spot in the national orphanage. Right by the open windows in the winter." He loomed forward. "And if the foreman thinks you're not pulling your weight… well, little Argentum's file might go _missing_ \- if some Lucii Alpha came to claim it, we might find it impossible to locate it." 

One patted Prompto's cheek patronisingly. "You should pay $600 by next Tuesday. And keep up with your repayments. Then we won't have to come back." 

The fuckers didn't even close the broken door behind them. He sunk to the floor, adrenaline draining out of him like a sieve. His hand clutched at his belly - his pulse loud and throbbing in his ears. His breathing was too harsh, short and sharp and _it couldn't get into his lungs_. 

They'd come into his home. Trashed his stuff. Threatened his life and his baby's. 

He shouted out - more in surprise than pain - as all the muscles in his abdomen painfully seized. Just a Braxton Hicks, right? The midwife told him about them. 

In the next moment, his whole midsection contracted with pain and he screamed with it. When it passed, he felt something wet soaking into the seat of his pants. "H-huh?" He muttered. There was a weird smell in the air, something metallic. He reached down to feel his jeans, and brought his fingers up to his face. They… they shouldn't be bright red. 

Another seize of pain wracked his body and he curled up with it, throat tearing with the force of the scream. When it ebbed out again, he fumbled for his phone. The screen was smeared as he swiped through to his emergency app - and hit the button to send his preprogrammed emergency SMS to Ignis. 

Then the pain seized over him again. 

***

He couldn't stop staring at the little heart rate monitor, on the machine next to his own. It seemed to be going dangerously, impossibly fast - but the midwife had reassured him it was a good speed. 

He was curled up on his side, face turned up to the monitor. Iggy was sitting just out of his line of sight, and the doctor was talking to him - mostly because Prompto was sedated up to his eyeballs and couldn't really focus on what was being said. 

"...second-trimester labour brought on by stress," the doctor's words floated around him. "We were able to stop it, and the foetus seems to be in excellent condition. But we really can't release him until we know it's into a less stressful situation." 

"What's the recommendation?" That was Iggy's voice. Sweet, perfect Iggy. Prompto really didn't deserve a friend like him. He'd come running, literally running. 

"Constant bedrest. An environment of low stimulation. Removal of any stressors. We have to avoid another preterm labour at all costs, if both omega and baby are to survive." 

That was going to be hard. 

"Thank you, doctor." 

"...sir? It's not my place, but… Your baby is doing fine, they're a healthy weight and appear to be getting all the appropriate nutrients. But your partner…" 

" _My_ partner?" Ignis echoed with a sort of amused disbelief. 

"We don't judge here, Sir. We see plenty of Double-O pregnancies." 

"I see." 

"Your partner doesn't weigh as much as we like to see at this stage of the pregnancy. Are you sure he's getting adequate food to cover the needs of both him and your baby?" Before Ignis could answer, the shrill beep of a pager went off. "I'll leave you both to it. Call the nurses if you need to." 

Prompto's eyes slipped closed, and he drifted off to the gentle pulse of the prenatal heart monitor. 

  


When he woke again, the sedatives had _definitely_ worn off. The world felt real again and he could feel the ache in his body. He opened his eyes and spotted Gladio sitting in the chair across from him, a paperback novel in his hands. 

He licked his lips. "Morning," he greeted and holy fuck did his throat hurt. 

"Evening," Gladio corrected easily, moving a cup of water with a straw to his lips. "It's six at night." 

He huffed dismissively and gave Gladio a grin before he took the straw between with teeth. When he released it he settled back into the raised gurney. "What are you doing here, buddy?" 

"Keeping an eye on you," he said easily, setting down the plastic cup. "Iggy went to the local ShopMart for Ebony and dinner." 

"Wait, if you're both here then who's watching after Noct?!" He asked, panicked. 

"The fifty servants and half-dozen kingsglaives on shift in the Citadel?" Gladio replied, raising his eyebrows. "Did you think we spent our whole lives babysitting Noctis?" 

"...yes?" He replied awkwardly. "I mean, outside the city we were always with him…" 

Gladio snorted. "Dude. He's twenty years old. He doesn't actually need a babysitter twenty-four/seven." He picked up his book again. "Outside the city was different. He didn't have the same protections. Here I barely see him outside my shifts, or his training sessions - unless there's an emergency called. Iggy sees him more often, but even he works 9-5 most days." 

"Oh." He shifted on his side to get comfortable, shift the weight off his belly off his spine. "They turned the heart monitor off." 

"Moved you out of the NICU too," Gladio shrugged. "Needed the beds. You're in the estral ward." 

"Huh. I thought this room was familiar. Pretty sure I've been in this one before." He fiddled with the tie on the side of his hospital gown keeping it closed. "Doesn't he get lonely?" He asked quietly. 

"He could use his best friend back." 

They were quiet, Gladio reading and Prompto dozing in and out of sleep. He stirred when the door opened and Ignis came in. "Gladiolus, I brought you Cup Noodles. Why don't you head to the Nurse's Breakroom to cook them?" 

Gladio closed his book and made himself scarce. Ignis calmly took the vacated seat. "Now. Are you ready to discuss the state of your apartment?" 

He cringed. "Why do you bother to phrase it like a question?" 

"Quite." He linked his fingers over his knees. "That did not look like a robbery. That looked like someone sending a message." 

"Yeah." 

"So. You're going to tell me who, so I can take care of the matter. You'll be damned if I allow you to continue in a situation that had you going into dangerously premature labour." 

He sighed and tugged the starchy sheets over his shoulder. "The Imperial Bank." 

"...buggering _fuck_ , Prompto." He sighed. "How much do you owe them?" 

"They want six hundred by Tuesday. Another three hundred by the end of the month, and every month after that." 

"But how much do you _owe_?" Ignis pressed. "I'm not just going to drag your head above water, I'm planning on getting you to shore." 

He clenched his hands in the papery fabric of his hospital gown. "19,283Gil." 

"Who even let you _borrow_ that much, Prompto?" Ignis asked agitatedly. 

He tried to hide his face in the pillow. He sighed and then looked at him again. "I got a 5k crown limit card from the Royal when we left - that was 10 thou Gil. And then the Imperial gave me a 10k in Altissia." He swallowed anxiously. "I maxed out both for the procedure. Then the Imperial offered me a debt consolidation loan at 13%. It was fine, first. I was living on the pension, and the job was going towards the debt." 

"But…?" 

"Found out I was pregnant. I slipped to making the minimums, and they started sniffing around my workplace. Then I got fired. And I missed a couple repayments completely." 

"Alright, focus on your breathing. It's going to be okay." He took out his notebook and began to make notes. "I'll need you to give me your account details and the name of your loan consultant." 

He gave the details and Ignis dutifully copied them down before closing the book and tucking it into his breast pocket. "I'll take care of it, Prompto. Don't worry about it any longer - doctor's orders." 

"Thanks, Iggy," he said quietly. "I'll pay you back. It'll take a while, I probably can't get proper work until they're in school. But I'll do it." 

"I don't want you to concern yourself with that, Prompto." 

He swallowed, trying to soothe his rising anxiety. "They threatened to take my baby away," he whispered. "Put them in an orphanage. Lose them, so nobody would find them again." 

Ignis touched his shoulder. "We won't allow that to happen, Prompto. I promise you." 

"Cause he's the royal bastard, right?" Prompto said with a self-deprecating smile. 

"No," he replied gently. "Because they're yours, and we care about you." 

He gave a weak smile because of that. "You're the best, Iggy," he said softly. 

***

"No," Ignis said stubbornly. "We can _not_ let you go back to your apartment, Prompto." 

He sighed. "Come on," he complained. "It'll be fine." 

"Dude." Gladio said with a low growl. "Your door is busted in. Loan sharks busted in and trashed the place." 

"I just need a decent door with a deadbolt," he said calmly. "It'll be fine." 

"You share a toilet with a family of eight and the bathroom is two floors down," Ignis said curtly. "It is simply not an option." 

He huffed. "Okay. Fine. Fine." He shifted, trying to take the weight off his back. "My pension is $1000 monthly. 200 on groceries, a hundred for bills." 

"I've never rented before," Gladio commented. "Is $700 a month expensive?" 

Prompto gave them both a deadpan look. "I paid six for that last place." 

"Gods," he exclaimed. "That's a joke right?" 

"And these are the people in charge of the country," Prompto muttered. 

"Perhaps we should just purchase you a house," Ignis said thoughtfully. 

"Dude," he said emphatically. " _No_." 

Ignis's cell rang and he sighed. "We are not finished this conversation." He swiped the screen and brought it up to his ear. "Highness." 

Prompto could _just_ hear Noct's voice, tinny from the phone; but so familiarly irritable. " _Where is everyone? It's my first night off in weeks and they said you both went home early_." 

"Apologies, Highness. We finished after getting our work done to visit Prompto in the hospital again today." 

"Hi Noct!" Prompto called towards the phone. Okay ouch, yelling no. That hurt. 

There was complete silence on the other side of the line. He took the phone away from his face and gave a disapproving hum. "I choose to believe he forgot to charge his phone." He tucked his phone away. "Now. Back to this house." 

"Dude, I refuse to let you buy me a house!" he argued loudly. 

"Why not?" Gladio asked. "A decent sized yard, proper kitchen and living room, actual bedrooms, separate bathrooms - you could even get a dog." 

"I wasn't objecting to _what_ you're buying, I'm saying you can't buy me anything!" he protested. "You already bought out my loan! I'm not letting you buy me a home too." 

"What if we rented it to you?" Ignis suggested instead. "I'll add it to my investment portfolio. You can be secure of a place to live at a budget-conscious price, with an understanding landlord who will understand if you have sudden medical costs that prevent you from making rent one month." 

He swallowed. "Okay… That seems fair." 

"Now. Three bedrooms at least…" 

"Okay _that_ 's going too far!" 

They were still squabbling when the door was violently thrust open. Prompto yelled in panic, his heart racing, curling up protectively over his stomach and darted a terrified look at the doorway. He slowly relaxed as he realised it was _Noct_. 

He must've come straight from the Citadel. He was still in most of his pinstripe suit, but his jacket was gone and his tie was half-loosened around his neck. 

"Ifrit's Horn, Noct," he breathed. "Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" 

He stood against the door, and abruptly tossed is car keys at Iggy - Gladio's hand darting out to grab them from the air. "Go park my car," he commanded. "It's in the emergency drop off zone." 

" _Really_ , Highness," Ignis said disapprovingly, getting to his feet. 

"Gladio, you can go with him or take a walk," Noct added. 

The Shield rolled his eyes and headed out of the door. Ignis followed after him, pausing by the prince's side. " _Don't_ stress him out, Noct. As his next of kin I **am** authorised to have you banned from his hospital room, and I won't hesitate." _I won't hesitate bitch,_ Prompto thought, fighting down a laugh. 

Noct glared at him but nodded. Once he was out, the Prince pulled the door to, but didn't close it all the way. He crossed quietly to the bed and took Iggy's abandoned seat. "Hey," he greeted. 

"Sup?" Prompto said with a playful smile. 

"Well, I found out my best friend has been in hospital for two days and nobody told me about it," he sounded worried, and grumpy. 

"Three," he corrected quietly. "But I'm actually okay. Iggy just won't let me sign out until he's found me a new place to live." 

"What's up with your current place?" Noct asked, concerned. 

" _Nothing_ ," he said, playing up his agitation. "He's just helicopter moming me." 

"Prompto," he said, his voice stern. 

He sighed, " _fiiiiine_." He shrugged. "A couple guys broke in and trashed the place. The stress kinda put me in here." 

" _Six_ , Prompto." Noct ran his hands through his hair, and sat back in the seat. "Yeah. I'm with Iggy on this one. You can't go back there." 

He huffed a little. "Well I guess. Not much I can do with all three of you ganging up on me." 

"So, what happened?" Noct asked, concerned. He leaned forward a little - one elbow propped on the armrest, and rested his chin on one fist. "You said stress put you in here, and Iggy's threatening me not to stress you out. Did you get kicked into an unscheduled heat or something?" 

"No," he said. This was it. This was time. Ready to tell him the truth. "I don't...have those any more." 

"Huh?" Noct echoed, confused. "Oh. Did they get you a new Tab or something? One that'd work for you?" 

"...no." He took a deep breath and offered out his palm. "Gimme your hand." 

Confused, Noct only hesitated a moment before offering his out, pressing their palms together. Prompto gently shifted their grip so his fingers were holding Noct's knuckles steady. He pulled it close and under the stiff hospital sheet, until it rested on his rounded belly. The baby shifted slightly under his fingers. 

"H-huh?" Noct gasped, his face nothing but confusion. 

Prompto felt the baby's hand on the other side of his stomach, and shifted Noct's hand, resting his palm against the movement. 

Noct yanked his hand back in an almost violent movement. In the same movement he was on his feet, the chair flying backwards. 

The clatter and the sharp movement had Prompto's heart rate bumping up. His hands clung under the blankets to his rounded belly, protective. "Noct, please calm down…" he whispered. 

The prince clenched his fists tightly. His jaw tended slightly and he hissed out through gritted teeth: "how long?" 

Had he known? Was he along? He took a shaky breath, planned to answer both. He got as far as "About three months ago I-" and then Noct was storming violently out of the room. 

He choked a sob and covered his mouth. 

"Noct?" Gladio's voice was loud outside the room. "Where are you going?" 

"What happened?" Ignis demanded. 

If Noct answered, it wasn't loud enough to be heard. 

Iggy was the only one who came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed a hand down his back. "Did you tell him?" 

"I tried," he whimpered, trying to choke past sobs. "He knows about the baby, but he stormed out before I got to explain anything else." 

"Shhh," Ignis said soothingly, rubbing circles into his back. "Try and calm yourself. Stress, remember?" 

Prompto tried to take deep, mindful breaths. Calm himself down. 

He'd never expected to do this with Noct. He'd been hesitant about even telling him at all. 

Of course Noct would be furious to find out he was having his baby. He hadn't planned for this, or wanted this. He'd only helped Prompto out with one heat because there was no other option. 

Even if Noct had wanted a mate and kids, he wouldn't pick Prompto for it. He'd been in love with Iggy his whole life, if he did settle down with anyone else they'd be regal and refined like Ignis. With a good family from the court. 

"Visiting hours are finishing up for the evening, Prompto," Ignis explained apologetically. "But I'll sort everything out tonight, you have my word. You'll get out of here first thing tomorrow morning. Try to get some decent rest. 

  


Noct's POV 

He slashed out with his sword, hacking yet another dummy to pieces. He kicked it over when it was just a frame with a few chunks of padding left, watching it bounce off the wall into the floor. He rolled his shoulders back and summoned another one from the armiger. 

"If you are _quite_ done having your childish temper tantrum?" 

"Go away Specs," Noct growled, and summoned his sword again. 

"You do realise when I warned you **not** to stress him out, I had a very good reason?" Ignis demanded, coming to stand between him and the dummy. 

"So? It's not good for _the foetus_ right?" Noct sneered. Probably not only **three months** in. 

His advisor's nostrils flared, and he was visibly calming himself down. "He very nearly miscarried three days ago, Noctis," he said coldly. 

A stab of guilt struck his chest, and he let the sword fall from numb fingers. But he quickly straightened himself up and gave Ignis the blankest look he could manage to dredge up. "Why would I care?" 

Ignis grit his jaw, a muscle ticking, and clenched his fists together. He took a number of very deep breaths, and then forcibly released his tension. "I realise you are angry about being kept in the dark, but I'm not going to stand here and listen to you being so purposefully callous. Beyond anything else, Prompto is your friend. It's cruel of you to pretend you don't care for his well-being." 

He turned away, summoning a dagger and throwing it across the room at another standing dummy. The little burst of movement coolled his anger, just a bit. "I don't care that nobody told me, Specs," he snapped. "I care that this happened at all!" 

He wanted to track down whoever had fucked Prompto in his heat and wring their goddamned neck. And where the fuck were they? Prompto was in hospital and only Ignis and Gladio had been there to visit. _Nobody_ fucked and then abandoned his best friend. 

"It wasn't a conscious _choice_ on his behalf, Noctis," Ignis ground out, furious. "You very well know the hectic state his cycle and system were in. He was on contraceptives as well as regulators. Sometimes these things happen unintentionally and I will **not** listen to you judge him for it." 

Noctis gripped his hands into tight fists around the handle of a set of daggers. "Who was it?" He demanded. "Who did this to him?" 

"...are you quite _serious_ , Noctis?" Iggy asked in disbelief. 

"Shut it. Forget I asked." Thunk, thunk, the daggers hitting the target barely on point. He was sloppy when he was mad, Gladio would kick his ass. "I don't want to know," he said decisively. "I don't want to hear _anything_ about it. Do you understand me?" 

"Noct…" 

"No," he cut him off firmly. "Not a fucking word about anything to do with it. That's an order!" 

Ignis clenched his teeth and gave a slight bow. His voice, when he spoke, was cool and professional. "A former member of your Crownsguard has been ordered to undergo bedrest immediately." Real subtle, Iggy. Six! "I wish to make a formal request to house him in the Citadel. This way I can ensure he is receiving the adequate care without interfering with my duties to your Highness." 

He summoned his weapons back and threw them again. Thunk. Thunk. Aaaand they were buried in the wall behind the dummy. "Fine!" he ground out aggressively. "Put him as far away from me as possible. I don't want to accidentally run into him." 

Ignis scowled, but gave his bow of assent. "Yes, Highness. I'll have rooms prepared in the North Tower close to my own." 


	2. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally three parts instead of two.

Prompto sat on the window seat, looking down at the brightly lit courtyard below. There was a sort of festival set up in the courtyard, crowded with the everyday citizens. Inside, there was the big fancy ball going on in celebration of Noct's twenty-first birthday. The elegant, orchestral music was spilling out into the courtyard from the open doors of the balcony. 

There was a single figure dressed in dark clothes standing on the balcony, when he zoomed in with his distance lens he could tell they were leaning against the railing looking down at the people below. With the dark head of hair, the isolation, the general body shape - he could easily convince himself it was Noct. 

He snapped a photo - he'd download it onto his computer later and spend hours messing with photoshop. Mostly because he wasn't really allowed to do much more. Bedrest was boring. 

He snapped a few more shots of the party below - when he focused back on the balcony, it was empty. Probably!Noct must have been coaxed back into the party. 

He set his camera down on his desk and waddled back to the bed. The waddling had started earlier this week and he absolutely hated it. It reminded him too much of his younger days when he was chubby and unhappy. 

He settled himself down on the bed and took out his cell. He fiddled with it for a while, and finally followed the compulsion he'd been ignoring for the whole day. He opened up the phone function and pressed his thumb down on Noct's number. 

He hadn't needed Ignis to tell him that Noct wanted nothing to do with him. He'd already known. But they'd been best friends once, and he wasn't going to let his _birthday_ go by without reaching out. Especially since he knew Noct was probably having the worst time. 

He wasn't surprised when it rang through to voicemail. It was almost more comfortable that way. 

"Hey, Noct," he said, old familiar warmth in his voice. "I know you're not talking to me right now - and dude, I totally get why, no judgement! - But I wanted to call tonight. I'm just hanging out at home, listening to your party going on. I bet you're hating it." He chuckled. "You always hated those big fancy things. I remember last year - you warped through my window at three in the morning still in your fancy suit and dragged me out. Sol's Diner first - do you think he'll open that place back up? I'm dying without those chilli fries man. Then we went back to your bachelor pad and played games until Iggy came over the next afternoon and made us go to sleep." 

He stopped. That had been a great morning. Just him and Noct hanging out, kicking zombie ass, climbing all over Lestallum to assassinate the bad guys. 

He shook his head free of thoughts and inhaled to talk again. "Anyway. I just wanted to say happy birthday. The big two-one." He gave an awkward laugh. "You probably won't see this til later. But, Uh. Yeah. Happy birthday, Noct. Sweet dreams." 

He hung up the phone quickly and threw it away onto the bed as if it burned. Noct wouldn't reply - he'd probably delete it right away anyway. 

He'd been here for a month now, and the only people he'd seen were Ignis and Gladio and for one terrifying afternoon tea, Clarus Amicitia. 

He wasn't exactly forbidden from leaving - he wasn't the prince's adulterous Delicium languishing to an early death in a lifelong imprisonment in the highest room of the tallest tower. But he _was_ on strict bed rest with minimal stimulation. Every other day or so Ignis managed to smuggle him out of the room so he could take photographs in the royal gardens. But always when Noct was _conveniently_ busy outside the Citadel or in a closed meeting with his father. 

He swung the swivelling bed table over his lap and opened his laptop. He plugged in the camera to upload the pictures of the day - Ignis had taken him along on his final look over of the ballroom, and he'd taken all sorts of artistic shots. 

But following his heart, he started with the photo of the solitary figure on the balcony. He fiddled with the balances a little, until the colours really popped and darkness seemed deep and intense. Then he played around with layers and overlays until he had a moody piece - the festival an enchanting world of golden glow and twinkling lights, contrasted with the solitary figure on the balcony, cast in a pale, cold blue light that spilled from the open doors. 

Just looking at it made him feel sad a moment. At once it was him, left out and alone with the merriment going on below. But he couldn't fight off the thought it was Noct either. In the cold, stiffness of his ball, longing for the warm simplicity of the festival in his name. 

He shivered, even as he posted it to his Instagram page. Whatever, he not had four followers and they all knew he mingled with the Citadel - Iris, Gladio, Iggy and… Noct. 

He shook off the thoughts and feelings that threatened to raise and clicked back to photoshop to work on another shot. Just a generic pic of the sylleblossom arrangement on the buffet table downstairs. 

Man, they probably had the stupidest nibbles. Bite sized mouthfuls of like… fish eggs and unpasteurised cheese. Give him chilli fries any day of the week. 

He startled when he felt his cell buzz against his calf and glared down at it suspiciously. It was probably just Iggy checking up on him, making sure the sounds below weren't too stimulating or some crap. 

He sighed and carefully stretched down to pick it up, trying not to bend over and crush the space of his belly. 

It wasn't Iggy. 

It was Noct. 

  
Prince of Garbage  
[7:18pm]  
Hey  


He stared at it in disbelief for a moment. Hey? Just _hey_? What was he supposed to do with _that_? 

His cell buzzed again. 

  
[7:19pm]  
Got your voicemail  


He put the cell down next to his computer, looking at it in betrayal. Okay, he was leaving the crown prince of Lucis on 'Read' but… well what else could he do? Were they even friends anymore? Like, Noct hadn't used punctuation so he probably wasn't pissed off, but he couldn't read anything else about it. 

He was still staring at it when it buzzed and the screen lit up again. 

  
[7:21pm]  
Can I come up later?  


Come up? To his room? Why the hell was he going to do that? Why did he even **want** to? 

He picked the cell up, started typing a response, then deleted it and put the phone down. He could already _feel_ the stress crawling up his spine. It was probably a bad idea. 

Iggy would say it was a bad idea. He'd tell him to say no, that he had to consider his stress levels. 

He picked up the cell again and took a deep breath before sending his response. 

  
Lord Chocobutt The Third  
[7:25pm]  
Bring chilli fries!!! XD LOL  


He really really did intend to meet Noct that night. When he got exhausted around nine, he went to bed early and pressed his face against the screen of his cell so the buzzing would wake him up. 

But when he woke up it was morning, he was lying in a drool spot on his pillow, and tangled up in his bedsheets. When he managed to free himself enough to find his cell stuffed under one of his many pillows, the battery was on its last legs. 

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he pulled down the notifications overnight. 

  
Prince of Garbage  
[2:46am]  
You up?

  
[2:58am]  
Prom?

[3:32am]  
(Image Attachment)  
Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty.

Prompto cringed at the picture when he finally opened the thread. There he was, an unsightly mess of a slob, curling up around his body pillow with hair and limbs every which way. His mouth was obviously hung open mid-snore. 

He was playful enough to send a string of angry emoji in response to the picture. 

But when he spotted the plate of homemade chilli fries on one of the fancy royal porcelains, he burst into tears. 

***

Foolishly, he'd sat down to take an up-close shot of a budding hydrangea. But now he was stuck on his butt, not entirely sure how he was going to get back onto his feet without toppling over again. He pointed accusingly at the soft pink bloom. "This is all your fault, you know! Now I have to call Ignis. After I spent half an hour this morning convincing him I didn't need him to hand-hold me around the garden every time!" 

There was a soft laugh behind him. Something achingly familiar. "Need a hand?" 

"Don't laugh at me!" he protested. But when the crown prince appeared in his line of vision, a gentle teasing smile on his beautiful face, he only took one photo before offering his hand out in request. 

Noct helped him up to his feet in a graceful movement, which he promptly ruined by tipping forward and needing to steady himself on Noct's biceps. 

"Not. A. Word," he warned. Noct just huffed a laugh and supported his weight until he was on his feet again. "Aren't you a little old to be running around rescuing chubby blonds from their own mistakes?" 

"Nah," Noct said, reaching up to fix his fringe. "I'm a prince. It's in the handbook." 

"I keep telling you, Noct. That's not a handbook, it's a Fairytale Collection." 

"Explains the lack of princesses losing their shoes or getting cursed by witches." 

"That's a gross stereotype. The only witch I've met was Kimya and she was lovely! She'd never curse a princess." He gave Noct an easy smile. "You're old enough to know better than that." 

"How long are these age jokes going to last?" Noct snorted. 

He slung an arm over his buddy's shoulder, not even considering he probably shouldn't be this familiar with him right now. "No idea. I can't possibly understand how time works for such ancient beings like yourself." 

Noct laughed and shoved his elbow back towards his stomach, "nerd!" 

"Don't!" Prompto cried, panicked, grabbing his arm before it could make contact. It took a moment longer for his breathing to calm down, and to be able to release his clawed grip on Noct's arm. "Sorry! I'm sorry, it's just… you can't…" 

"Shit," Noct muttered under his breath. Then, louder but still soft: "no. I'm sorry, Prom. I didn't even think." 

The comfortable ease between them immediately vanished. They stood in an awkward silence for a minute, and then Noct cleared his throat. 

"I should head back inside," Prompto said quickly. "It's almost time for elevensies." 

"Let me," Noct pressed gently. He put his arm around Prompto's back and seemed to be trying to bear his weight as the blond awkwardly waddled along. "Does it hurt…?" He asked hesitantly. 

"Sometimes. Mostly towards the end of the day. But you carry around a two pound wiggly weight under your shirt and see how your back takes it." 

"...yeah," Noct replied awkwardly. 

Prompto reached up and messed up Noct's fringe. "Why so serious? We don't have to talk about it if you want." 

They walked into the elevator up to the North Tower in an awkward silence. Prompto sunk into the seat he was pretty sure had only been installed because of him. 

"You didn't eat your chilli fries." 

Prompto gave him a mock-offended look. "You've got to stop breaking into my room." 

"Sorry. It's this weird compulsion I have to climb tall towers and go into the rooms of pretty blonds." 

Prompto felt his cheeks burn with a blush. "Dude, you just called me pretty." 

"Uh-Huh," Noct said indifferently. As if that was just something he did everyday. Call his best friend pretty. "I mean, that's kinda rude. You sent me on a quest, and I slaved away in front of a fiery beast to prepare you a gift and you didn't even accept it." 

Prompto snorted. "Okay you've got to stop with the fairytale metaphor. Next you're going to tell me that you faced down the wrath of Dragon-Ignis to breach the tower." 

"...well, I _am_ technically banned." 

He didn't know what to say to that. So he changed the subject again. "And anyway, they were cold and the cheese was all congealed when I woke up! I wasn't gonna eat that." 

"Yeah, well if you were awake when I brought them up…" Noct teased. 

Prompto elbowed him. "Well if someone didn't stay out dancing at the royal ball until two thirty in the morning!" He added with a grin. 

Noct sighed, and there was a seriousness in his eyes as he said: "I would've much rather been hanging with you." 

He felt the smile slide right off his face. The doors opened then, and he used the handrail to ease himself up onto his feet. "Well I've been right here, buddy," he mumbled, as he waddled down the hall to his room. "Stuck in this room like twenty three hours a day. Going out of my mind with boredom. For months more." He stopped at the closed door of his bedroom, the light smell of cleaning products proof that the Citadel cleaning staff had been in while he was out. "Well. This is me." 

Noct shoved his hands into his pockets. "What are your plans right now?" 

"Putting my feet up and ordering room service," he answered with a shrug. 

"Sounds nice," Noct mumbled. 

"Yeah. But some of us have council meetings to get to." 

They stood in an awkward silence for a long minute. Then Noct took a deep breath and straightened out of his slouch. "Well. I should go to that before Ignis tears his hair out." 

"Have fun." 

The prince hesitated before he turned to leave. "Can I stop by later?" 

He smiled encouragingly. "Only if you come with onion rings." 

"You have my word." 

***

"Uh, Okay." Awkwardly, Noct rested his head on a pillow, level with Prompto's shifting belly. The little royal bastard was having an impatient day. "What am I supposed to say?" 

"I don't care," Prompto complained, his voice twisting up with the tears he was fighting down. One arm was thrown over his face to block out his eyes from the bare slivers of light that passed through the crack in the drapes and under the doors. "Make up a story, tell them about your day, list every fish you've ever caught. I don't _care,_ Noct. I need to get some _sleep_." 

It felt like there was a clamp on his head, and someone kept cranking it tighter and tighter. Every bit of light was just too much. Ignis has already called the midwife in; who checked different vitals and tested samples and declared it was probably just a headache, but to notify her immediately if he became nauseous or it continued beyond twenty-four hours. 

" _He's already had one preterm labour incident, sir. We must be ever vigilant to prevent another before it can happen._ " She'd said, pretending Prompto wasn't right there. She prescribed a herbal tea and sleep. 

But as soon as he lay down, **someone** had decided it was time to practice their gymnastics routine. Ignis had been too harried about his snowballing workload to do much more than warn Noctis to keep him calm when the prince snuck in for the nearly-daily visits he'd been taking for the last month or so. 

At first, Noct had complained how boring Prompto's room was - he didn't even have a TV, and Ignis had parent-blocked his laptop so he couldn't even stream or play games. Too much stimulation apparently, and a danger of sudden stressors. He'd shut up when Prompto had given him a deadpan look and said " _yeah, I know_." But Noct had brought comic books and a portable drive filled with podcasts and audiobooks. 

(Prompto had already tried to listen to those today, but the unnatural noise had dug deep into his skull.) 

Noct was getting...more comfortable with the pregnancy thing. He was still awkward as a newborn Arba around the conversation, but he'd stopped giving Prompto's belly queasy looks whenever he saw the shape distort with a foot or a hand. Apparently things had progressed so far that he was actually willing to attempt to talk to them just so they'd settle long enough for Prompto to fall asleep. 

"Right. Uh. So. Once upon a time?" 

Prompto snorted but didn't comment. Sleep. Sleep was bliss, a haven from his splitting skull. 

"Once upon a time, there was a prince. And, uh, one day he climbed up to the highest room in the tallest tower of his own castle and discovered there was a princess trapped away inside. The prince uh, fell in love with him instantly - because that's how it works in fairytales obviously. 

"He asked him- Uh, her. The princess. He asked the princess to leave with him, but she said she could not. Because she was under a spell? Yeah. A spell. 

"She said if he brought her a plate of chilli fries she could eat them and be freed from her enchantment-" 

Prompto snorted again. "Seriously?" 

"Shhh, you're interrupting the story." 

He just shook his head in amusement and settled more comfortably into the pillows. Noct's voice was soothing - to him if not them - a deep smooth velvet that weighed him down towards sleep. 

"The prince promised to prepare the magic quest item, and return before dawn with the princess's request. The prince ventured deep into the depths of the castle into a forge of immense heat. But he withstood the intense climate, using all his skills to fulfil his quest for the beautiful princess. 

"At last he had returned to the high tower, but found the princess deep in an enchanted sleep. Nothing could wake her - not calling her name, or touching her face, or even tickling the soles of her feet—" 

Lazily, Prompto kicked out his foot to nail Noct in the ankle. "Rude," he mumbled, voice thick with near-sleep. 

"So the prince left his gift for the princess and returned to the rest of his castle before the sun rose. The very next day, the prince found the princess in his garden, trapped by magic in the garden bed…" 

Prompto drifted to sleep, not very deeply. He ebbed in and out of brain tangents that turned into spotty dreams and back into awareness of Noct's dumb fairytale. About the dishes he had prepared in each 'quest' for the princess, but which were never consumed. "There were no onions in the palace for the onion rings" and "the princess could not eat the deep fried cheese sticks she had asked for, as mozzarella was a soft cheese and not safe for her curse" and "she discovered that the smell of the spicy chicken wings had made her violently ill from the curse". 

Okay. He was calling the baby a curse. Kinda rude. 

He stirred up, the sticky fingers of his migraine only just clinging to his brain, to complain. But Noct had moved on, and the blanket of sleep wrapped him up again. 

"But every day, the prince was growing more and more sad." His voice was soft, tinged with the emotion he had named. "For the prince loved this princess deeply. But the princess had been cursed by another, and he knew that one day she must return to the wicked bastard who had cast it upon her." 

Prompto's imprisonment in sleep wavered as he felt Noct's hand press against his belly, where he could feel the baby's foot pushing out. 

"You're not that bad you know," the prince mumbled. "You're like a terrifying Xenomorph that always looks like it's gonna explode out of Prom's stomach. But you're not that bad." He rubbed, just slightly. "I'd take good care of you, you know. Both of you. If he let me." 

Prompto parted his lips, taking in a deep breath that squeezed through his epiglottis in a truly embarrassing snort. In the next instant Noct was collapsed on the bed next to him, laughing wheezily. In the annoyance and the sticky trap of sleep, he wasn't exactly sure if that last bit had even happened, or if it had been a half-awake dream. 

He reached out to smack towards Noct's head. "Shut up," he complained. "You're supposed to be helping, not laughing at me." 

Noct just caught his hand and rested it back on his own chest. "How's your head?" 

"Better," he muttered. "I'm starving. _Someone_ has been telling fairytales about food." 

Noct laughed and sat up, searching out his phone. "I'll let Iggy know to get you something." 

***

Noct's POV  
Gladio had decided today was balance day. Noct hated balance day. It was now into thirty minutes of resting on one foot, with his Shield ready to smack his ribs if he started to tip. Which was fine, except he was so six-blasted _bored_. 

Thirty-two minutes in, when he was adjusting his stance so his muscles didn't cramp up, Ignis wandered in with a pile of papers. "There you are Gladiolus. Are you busy?" 

"Nah. It's balance day." He replied. "What's up, Iggy?" 

"Nothing serious. I brought a few more prospective properties for Prompto for us to look over." 

Noct's head jolted up, eyes tracking Specs as he crossed the training room to his Shield with the papers. "What are you talking about, properties for Prompto?" He demanded. 

"I'm sorry, Highness," Ignis replied, his voice cold and professional, "according to your direct command I am unable to inform you of any details on the matter." 

"Specs," Noct grumbled, irritated. "You _know_ I didn't mean it, or I don't any more." 

Gladio slapped him in the side with a wooden paddle. "Balance!" he cried. He was way too excited about Balance Days. "If you gotta know, we're investing in a house to rent to Prompto, so he can have a steady house to raise the kid when they're born." 

He planted his other foot on the ground, turning to look at them both, grabbing and tossing aside Gladio's wooden paddle. "What are you guys talking about? Prompto lives here." 

"For now," Ignis said in an airy voice. "None of the three of us - those who wish to be involved in the matter that is - saw it as a long-term solution. It was simply the most conveniently available that could get Prompto out of the hospital soonest." 

He looked between them, temper flaring. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath before forcibly relaxing. "Well it's still the most convenient. Prompto can stay here." 

"No," Ignis disagreed, in that firm, polished way of his that was so hard to argue with. "As fond as we all are of Prompto, there is no place with him here. He can have his own home, to make comfortable as he wishes, and make a life for himself under his own jurisdiction. To raise his child in." 

"He can raise them here!" Noct protested. 

"Not really," Gladio said, shrugging. "We all grew up in and around the Citadel, Noct. It's kinda shitty for the kids who don't have a formal place. The Crownsguard kids had the worst of it - and Prompto isn't even Crownsguard any more. Who could want to put a kid through that? Put Prompto through that awkward half-life?" 

"And he has no formal, legal position in the Citadel," Ignis continued. "He's been kept from the worst of it, so isolated with his seclusion. But once he's free to roam the Citadel, you can imagine the difficulties he will face." He pushed up his spectacles. "Now, if you don't mind?" 

Gladio summoned another paddle and poked him with it. "Left foot now." 

He yanked the paddle away and vanished it back into the armiger. "So instead of, I don't know, trying to make a place for him, you decide you have to kick him out to some random house in the city alone?" 

"He won't be alone," Ignis replied calmly. "He'll have a child. A family." 

He clenched his fists tightly. "Not the point I was making, Specs, and you know it." 

"Well, there's no position Iggy or I can give him," Gladio replied calmly with a lazy shrug. "This is what we can do for him, provide him with a secure home." 

Ignis turned his back to Noct, and started flipping through some pages with Gladio. "I like this one. It's modern, repaired after the Invasion. Four bedroom, fenced yard. The kitchen is a bit basic for my desires, but I'm sure it will serve Prompto's needs adequately. There's even an enclosed space in the basement that he could turn into a dark room." 

Noct shot them both a furious look and stormed out of the room. 

Oblivious to him after he left the room, Ignis gave his partner a smug smirk and tucked the blank sheets of paper into his pocket. 

***

Prompto was so bored he was trying to learn how to knit. He managed a lumpy square of uneven lines about three times before he unravelled and started again. Give him a bit of tech and he'd work it out in a few hours. But trying to keep loops and pearls or whatever they were in order just skipped his brain. 

The door opened and closed quickly. He looked up and, seeing it was Noct, declared "thank fuck!" and gleefully threw his botched knitting attempt aside. "I've been out of my mind, dude. I know Gladio said today was Balance Day, but your PT sesh was like two hours ago." 

Noct didn't even respond to his chatter. He was quiet, his expression drawn and serious. He walked slowly and carefully towards the bed where Prompto was propped, the limp in his right leg more pronounced than usual. Even for Balance Day. 

"Noct? You okay?" He leaned up on his elbows. "Did something happen?" 

Noct sat on the edge of the bed, watching him with a serious gaze. There was a line puckering between his eyebrows. After a long, charged silence, he softly inhaled and asked. "Can you lie on your side so I can look at your back?" 

"Uh. Okay?" It was a pretty weird request, but it seemed harmless. He shifted onto his side, using the body pillow to prop himself comfortably without crush the space of his belly. 

Noct just watched him for a long moment, then shifted closer. His fingers lightly scooped the long ends of his hair to the underside of his neck. A shaky breath escaped his lips. Prompto wondered why. 

And then he got his answer. 

Scientists hadn't exactly cracked the reason behind mating bites. Whether the sensations caused by the scars were just psychological, or whether the bite actually caused a mutation in the sensory receptors in the skin. But whatever it was, there was too much anecdotal evidence to deny it. 

And suddenly Prompto knew it was real. He knew the instant Noct's fingers touched the mating bite. 

He gasped, his whole body arching with the pleasure that shot from the touch of Noct's fingertips to his liquid core - getting tangled somewhere in the rotten tether of their broken bond. 

"Noct," he gasped as the prince's fingertips skated away and back over the scar as he stroked over it. "Noct, hngh…" 

The fingers retreated, just slightly. "That...feels good?" 

"Dude," he said weakly, tucking his body pillow closer to hide his very real reaction. "I haven't even seen my dick in weeks. You can't just… you can't just _toy_ with me like that." 

"I didn't mean it like that," Noct murmured softly. "I just… I just wanted to know where it was. If it still mattered, after you…" 

He took a deep breath, trying to push away the lingering feelings. "I don't know if they always are, or it's because I was never untethered. But yeah. It still works." 

Prompto watched with uncertainty as Noct lay down to face him, crushing the body pillow down so there was nothing between their faces. One hand curled around his neck, fingers touching the skin just above the bite but not making contact. "Are you happy here?" 

"Huh?" He echoed, confused by the question. "What do you mean?" 

Noct held his face still, trying to keep their eyes in contact. "Specs and Gladio are looking at houses to buy for you. To live in, outside the Citadel." 

"Kinda hard to buy a house _inside_ the Citadel," he pointed out with a smirk. Trying to lighten the intense, serious mood. 

"Do you want to leave?" Noct asked, carefully intoning each word. 

He swallowed, hands toying anxiously with the pillowcase underneath his fingers. "I don't belong here, Noct," he said reluctantly. "Not like you, or Iggy and Gladio. You all have...old family names, and positions, and titles, and jobs. It was nice of Iggy to get me a space here - and I love hanging with you again. But I knew this was temporary. I don't have a place." 

"What if you did?" 

He blinked. "Huh?" 

Noct took a deep breath, and his fingers lightly touched the bite mark. "What if we told everyone it was mine?" 

He reached up to bat his hand away. "Stop that," he mumbled. "What do you mean? Tell everybody what was yours?" 

"The baby," Noct said, pressing closer with the lack of contact from his hand. "You know that's the main rumour downstairs, right?" He continued. "I mean, there's two main teams: they think it's mine, or it's Iggy's." 

The tension was too much. He huffed. "What, nobody thinks I'm hot enough to bag Gladio?" 

"That was pretty quickly debunked by the two of you _not_ getting marched down the aisle by Clarus with a shotgun." 

"Ifrit's horn," he cursed. "That's why he had tea with me, wasn't it?" 

"Yep," Noct replied. "But you're changing the subject, Prompto." 

"I don't know what you want from me, Noct," he complained. "So you tell everyone the baby's yours," he said, "what does that even do? You've killed your reputation, for what? You don't want the kid, why would you saddle yourself with the public responsibility?" 

"It's not a big deal, Prompto," Noct said, frowning at him. "And you would have a place, a position, a reason to stay here." 

"As what?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "Some O you knocked up? That thing Gladio called it, Desirium?" 

"Delicium," Noct corrected. 

"Yeah. That one." 

"And, actually…" The prince paused, and couldn't meet Prompto's eyes as he mumbled: "I was thinking more like Crown Omega." 

Crown Omega. A princess, in everything but title. "You're joking," he deadpanned. 

Noct nodded his chin towards Prompto's neck. "We were mates once. It wouldn't exactly be a lie." 

"No," he said firmly. 

"No what? It isn't a lie," Noct defended. 

"I mean, _no_ , Noct. I'm not becoming your Crown Omega. How could you even think I would let you throw your life away for me?" He clenched his teeth. "Just because you don't want me to move out of your tower prison?" Okay that was a little harsh, but he was panicked. What did Noct even think he was doing, coming up here, calling them mates, offering to give him the princess treatment? "All because you're afraid you won't be able to make time for me anymore when I'm not upstairs?" 

Noct, pale, with eyes wide from horror, shook his head emphatically. "No, it's not about that. I'll always make time for you, Prom." 

He could feel his pulse throbbing through his body, head going all woozy with it. He was hardly breathing, and he tried to make himself. "I can't have this conversation, Noct," he said wheezily. "I need you to go right now. I have to calm down. It's too much stress and I can't have this…" He needed air. 

He lurched up, stumbling and waddling towards the window so he could yank open the drapes and throw open the glass. He sucked in lungfuls if cold, fresh air. 

"Prompto, I…" 

"I _need you to leave_ , Noct," he stressed. "And I need you to get Iggy to call my midwife. Go!" 

  


Later, when he was sedated, Iggy sat with him and quietly changed the damp towel on his forehead. "What happened with Noctis?" 

He gazed up at the ceiling, the intricate design of the ceiling rose. Chasing the swirls of the filigree. "He asked me to marry him." 

Ignis froze, mid-movement. "Your pardon? Did I hear that correctly?" 

"Well… not really marry me," he mumbled. "He offered to make me the Crown Omega." 

With careful, slow movements designed to keep him calm, Iggy resumed wringing out his face towel. "Am I to begin organising the royal wedding then?" He asked. There wasn't disapproval in his tone, which confused Prompto. He thought he and Iggy were on the same page about Noct's being available for a proper, royal spouse. 

"Of course not," he murmured, shutting his eyes as a fresh, cold towel draped over his forehead. "I turned him down. I can't let him ruin his life for me, after everything I've done. After everything I've done to _him_." 

Ignis sighed and stroked his hair with a sort of motherly affection Prompto had never really known in his lifetime. "Will the two of you ever stop sabotaging your own happiness?" He asked, resigned. 

"Sure. As soon as I stop wrecking Noct's chances at it." 

Ignis just sighed again and tucked the sheets over his shoulders. "Get some rest, Prompto. Today really was too much for you." 

***

Noct didn't show up again for a week or so. And when he eventually did, it was when Iggy and Gladio were sitting with him already. The angry, disapproving purse of the advisor's lips told Prompto that he'd probably reinstated the ban again after the close call. But he merely said a cool "Highness" in greeting, and turned back to his effortless knitting. 

Prompto watched the rapid progress of a pair of soft white booties as Noct ventured deeper into the room. Eventually, after a long moment of hesitation, the prince settled on the edge of the mattress. 

"So. What are you looking for in a house?" The tone of voice in the question was familiar to Prompto, though he hadn't heard it in a long time. It was at once bitter disappointment, caged in but determined support. Last time, Noct had made himself encourage Prompto about moving across the other side of the city to the school that had offered him a full ride in photography. 

It had all conveniently resolved when the Royal University of Insomnia had released their 'surprise' announcement that they had revitalised their visual arts program to include more modern art forms like digital art, graphic design, animation, and photography, with elite professors hand-picked from all over Eos. And what do you know? Prompto's application had not already been accepted, but he was also awarded a full scholarship. Strange. He hadn't remembered applying there. 

In the end Prompto hadn't had to move at all, and he'd hung out with Noct in between classes while the prince suffered through a political science degree. 

But it meant something now, that Noct was trying to make an effort to be supportive, even if in the background he was plotting something to get his own way in the end. 

"That is where we continue to disagree," Ignis said curtly. "Prompto fails to grasp the minimum requirements—" 

"I do not," he huffed. He turned to Noct, demanding with a look the prince get on his side. "Tell Iggy he's being ridiculous." 

"Kindly inform Prompto that we have calculated his minimum requirements appropriately and his obstinance is the only delay." 

"Three bedrooms!" Prompto protested, hugging. "A fenced yard! And a separate kitchen!" 

Noct looked between them with an amused sort of confusion. "Specs, that seems perfectly reasonable," he pointed out calmly. 

"No!" Prompto groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

Iggy sounded smug. "Yes, thank you, Noct." 

He reached out and smacked the prince's arm. "You were meant to be on my side, Noct!" 

"What?" He asked, leaning back against his spare pillows. "What could you possibly look for that's smaller?" 

Prompto threw his hands up in frustration. "You're all awful!" he declared. "You'd think slumming it around Lucis would teach you guys how _real_ people live, but no!" 

"No need to get mean, Prompto," Gladio grumbled. "We're trying to help here." 

"What do you think would fit?" Noct asked, his voice gentle. 

Ignis sighed - and Prompto got his frustration. They'd been talking around and around in circles about this for months. 

"An apartment!" he cried, impatient. "Two rooms, max - I could probably deal with one. And I don't need a separate kitchen, it can be on the end of the living room." 

"One bedroom!" Ignis repeated in indignation. "Certainly not!" 

"One does seem too small," Noct said, his voice just on the edge of placatingly gentle. "Kid needs a nursery." 

"They'll be in a crib for the first couple years anyway," Prompto disagreed. "I wouldn't want them too far from me at first either." 

"And when they've grown old enough to necessitate their own bedroom?" Ignis asked derisively. 

"Then we can deal. I'll get a fold out couch!" Prompto offered. 

"I refuse to allow you to be relegated to a fold-out couch in your own home, Prompto," he protested angrily. 

Noct commented, very diplomatically, "it does seem like, in the long run, two bedrooms is better." 

Prompto grit his teeth, because every time he'd been ready to concede that, Iggy— 

"And three would be better!" There he went. "A guest room combined with a study. Leaving the option open for…" A stiff silence followed. 

"...for?" Noct prompted. 

"What if you have another kid?" Gladio said, his voice very _very_ careful. 

Prompto tried not to explode again. Really really hard. But then Ignis was saying "it truly would be better to be prepared for that eventuality—" and he lost it. 

"I'm not going to do that!" he snarled. "I didn't even mean to have this one! If you don't think I've learned from my mistakes then—" 

He fell abruptly silent when Noct's hand settled on his waist, fingers just brushing the curve of his distended belly. "You don't know how you might feel once they're born, Prompto," he said gently. "You might love being a parent. The kid might want a little sibling." And he gave a shy smile. "Besides. Where am I gonna sleep where I come visit?" 

_With me, duh_ , was on the tip of his tongue. He and Noct had always passed out in the same bed before. " _You_ ," he said bitterly, "can have the foldout couch." 

Gladio snorted a laugh and settled back in his seat. A huge cushioned armchair he'd carried in practically one-handed - the asshole. Prompto was gonna work his buttgroove into the cushions once he left just to spite him. 

Noct only laughed and withdrew his hand. Prompto kinda missed the feel of it. "So how about we compromise thus: you'll look for a two bedroom apartment. And in the event of a second child, if it so occurs, Iggy has full permission to purchase an extension or a different property." 

That was the closest he was going to get to them actually bending with their fancy rich-people standards, wasn't it? He met Ignis's eyes and frowned at the challenging eyebrow. "I'm fine with it if Iggy is," he muttered sulkily. 

"Very well. A two bedroom house—" 

"Back to the house!" Prompto shouted irritably, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Every time I think you're listening to me you prove me wrong!" 

"Should you be having this discussion?" Noct asked worriedly. "It seems a little stressful." 

"I've got a heart rate monitor on," he replied, holding up the wrist with the chunky black band on it. "If it goes too high it sets off an alarm and Iggy has to apologise and make me the peppery daggerquill rice we had in Alstor Slough." 

"...okay." Noct sounded wary. "So. Ignis, why a house?" 

"A child deserves a backyard," he said, his lips pursed. "Space to run around, and tumble, and develop the gross motor movements integral to a child's physical development." 

"That's what _parks_ are for, Ignis!" Prompto protested. "With the added bonus of _other_ children for psychosocial development! Yeah, I read those books too." 

"Parks are an additional experience necessary," Ignis agreed. "But they don't compare to the freedom of having one's own secure, safe backyard. Additionally, a pet could be kept with a—" 

He lost it again. "This isn't your kid and this isn't your **life** , Ignis!" he shouted. "Stop mothering me and mine! If you want a baby, have your goddamn own!" He knew the instant the words came out of his mouth they were a mistake - that he was just lashing out. 

He didn't realise exactly how much until Iggy's face instantly shuttered to a cold, polite mask. In a smooth, enviably graceful movement, he rose to his feet. "We have clearly pushed too far today. Let us postpone the rest of the discussion." 

"Iggy, wait," he said desperately. "I didn't mean to—" 

"It is quite alright, Prompto," Ignis said, his voice cool and calm. "There is no need to explain. If you'll excuse me." He bowed to Noct silently and strode from the room with measured, perfectly even steps. 

"Titan's chain," Gladio groaned. He stood up and rushed from the room with speed and grace you wouldn't expect from someone so weighed down with muscle. 

He burst into tears as soon as he heard the door close. He fumbled for his cell and swiped it open, fingers shaking as he opened the phone to press down on Iggy's number. In too few rings it went to voicemail. 

He sobbed. "Iggy please. Don't be mad. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm so grateful for everything you've been doing for me! And I couldn't think of a better person to co-parent my kid but we both know Gladio would throw me into the Sound if I even thought about it. Please! Don't be mad, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm—" 

Hands gently coaxed the cell from his grip, "Prom, it's okay," he said gently. "Give him time to cool. You know Specs doesn't hold a grudge." 

He felt all the energy drain out of him like a sieve, curling around the body pillow bonelessly. "I'm an asshole," he muttered, sick with self-loathing. "After everything he's done for everyone, for me especially. I knew I was a monster, but I didn't think I was an ungrateful asshole too." 

"You're not a monster, Prompto," Noct corrected. 

"You of _all_ people know what I—" 

He fell silent as Noct moved to curl up behind him. One hand gently cupped his stomach, and his nose tucked into the long hair at the back of his neck. He blamed the unexpected pressure against his bitemark for the wash of calm and reassurance that swept his anxiety and distress away. 

"You're still the only person that thinks that," Noct murmured. 

They were silent a long time. Long enough for the comfort to wear off and the confusion to sink in. "Noct?" He whispered. "What are you doing?" 

"I _was_ napping," the prince muttered, voice thick with tiredness. 

"Okay." There was no point asking Noct _why_ he was napping, the prince was only ever two minutes of stillness away from dropping off. "But why are you napping _here_?" 

He mumbled something into the back of Prompto's neck. 

"Words, Noct," he teased. 

He sighed. "I'm in pseudo-rut," he muttered, embarrassed. "And I wanna cuddle." 

Prompto blinked rapidly, and felt blood flood his cheeks. "Dude!" he hissed. 

"You asked!" Noct sulked. 

Okay, so. Prompto knew he'd probably cuddled Noct threw his pseudo plenty of times through the years. The Tab-dulled Pseudos made both As and Os extra tactile, but the different symptoms varied according to what Tab they were on and, who knows, their personal body chemistry probably. 

Prompto himself, who considered himself pretty versatile normally, used to always reach for his toys during his pseudo-heat — but he'd never used to get slick unless he'd had a really, _really_ good session. And it had always been embarrassing. 

You could always tell when Iggy was in a pseudo. He was such a _grump_ \- touchy about every little thing, and always a moment away from snapping. Thankfully it was never more than a day or two in his case. 

Gladio's was harder to pin, it'd taken years for Prompto to tell, and he was still harder to pick sometimes. He was a little more affectionate with Iggy, a little softer with Prompto, more patient with Noct's antics, and more playful with Iris. Prompto figured, when the time came around, he'd be cuddly with the baby too. 

"If I feel a boner on my ass I'm kicking you out!" Prompto warned. 

"When have I _ever_ had my dick against your ass, Prom?" 

He tensed as he realised the answer to the question - and the implication. It took a moment for Noct to get it too. The hand on his belly lightly stroked a slow circle. "Okay. Yeah, we know when. Forget I said that. I promise I'm not poking you with my dick." 

He huffed — he shouldn't feel offended but he did. "Hey. Excuse you! I'm a catch. Anyone would be _lucky_ to have the privilege of my ass." 

"Yes you are," Noct agreed sleepily. "But I always strategically put a pillow between us so you can't tell. Now can I _please_ go back to sleep?" 

"Yeah." He settled down, might as well doze as well. But then something about Noct's comment triggered in his brain. "Wait, what do you mean **always** with the pillow?" 

Noct sighed irritably at having his sleep disturbed again. "Dude we've been spooning for four years and you've never noticed I always put a pillow between us?" 

"...no?" Not that he'd really spooned with anyone else. "I thought you were just tactile and sleepy in your pseudo! Now you're telling me there were always boners involved?!" 

Noct leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Prompto's neck through the thick of his hair. Ease instantly flowed through him. "Chill." 

"That's definitely cheating," he muttered. "You can't use a mating bite against me. I can't retaliate! It's not fair." 

"Then bite me," Noct slurred - and a moment later his breath was deep and even. 

It took longer for Prompto to even settle down enough to properly relax. Noct hadn't just been tactile, needy cuddling him in his pseudos, he'd been stealth spooning him for years. Somehow that changed things, shifted their already painfully blurry line between friends and something more. He didn't know how to reconcile that. 

And then he said _bite me_! He'd been too close to sleep to give it any real inflection. Had it been a snarky, sarcastic quip? Because clearly it couldn't have been an _offer_. 

But eventually he fell asleep, Noct's warm, solid presence a comforting weight behind him. 

***

"Does Noct still cuddle with you, or did stop at some point?" 

Ignis looked up from his laptop - he was looking at duplexes and ground-floor apartments. Somewhere with a small garden that he intended to have a gardener maintain. That had finally been their compromise. Prompto had to wonder how much his guilt had played in the final agreement, but tried not to think about it too much. 

"Your pardon?" Ignis asked, taking off his glasses to clean them. 

"You know. When he gets all sleepy and clingy and just wants to cuddle." He didn't want to come out and say 'when he was pseudo', but by quick little frown tugging down Iggy's lips, he figured the advisor guessed. "Like did you stop at some point, or do you still?" 

Iggy pursed his lips. "Given I haven't the faintest idea to that which you are referring," he answered smoothly, "I will venture to presume my answer is no." 

"Oh." He attempted to do another purl and huffed as his grip on the knitting needle slipped out and clattered onto his bed table. 

"I'll bring you a crochet hook next time," Ignis replied, "it seems it's the dual hooks that's giving you the most trouble." 

He huffed and unravelled the tangle of loops. "I'm supposed to be knitting baby clothes." 

"Gladiolus has been purchasing behind my back. He thinks I don't know, but he forgets he asked me to do his accounting years ago." Ignis folded the laptop down. "I'll get him to bring some things out from wherever he's stashing them." 

"For me?" He asked, surprised, rubbing his belly. "I didn't think he cared that much." 

There was a pause. Ignis tone was soft and sad as he answered. "No," he admitted quietly. "It's been… quite some time prior to that." He took off his glasses to polish the lenses. 

Prompto looked down at the tangle of wool as he wound it back around the skein. "Four years?" He guessed hesitantly. There was a crack and Prompto cringed as he saw the mangled mess that was now Iggy's glasses. "Sorry! Sorry! I shouldn't have… I'm sorry." 

"It's quite alright, Prompto," he said gently. "I have a spare pair downstairs. It's only…" He sighed and set the broken glasses on his closed laptop. "I didn't expect anyone else to make that connection. I had quite forgotten I'd told you." He sighed. "Guilt comes through in strange ways I suppose. Gladiolus is purchasing clothes for a three year old who never developed enough to have a heartbeat and I've been projecting my feelings onto you." 

Prompto reached out and touched his hand comfortingly. "It's alright, Iggy. It's my mess and you really didn't have to help me with it. But I'm so grateful for everything you've done. Far more than I deserve." 

"Nonsense." 

"I know. I know. Royal bastard. Gotta take care of him." He rubbed his belly. 

"Now who is projecting?" Ignis asked. "You're my friend, Prompto. I'd help you, if you were having anyone's child." 

"What if it was Gladio?" He teased, lying back against his pillows. 

"Well. I'd be indescribably furious with you both, but I would still take care of you." A slight smile tugged at his lips. "Though nothing in the world could prevent me from snatching that child from your arms and absconding with it." 

Prompto laughed. "Well. We all know it couldn't be Gladio anyway." He hummed. "What if it was Cor Leonis?" 

"Then you'd have to answer to King Regis himself," Ignis answered with a smirk. 

"The king?!" Prompto choked. "Oh you've got to be kidding." 

"What about his majesty?" Gladio asked, dropping his gym bag by the door as he came into the room. 

"Oh, nothing, love." Ignis rose to give him a kiss on his neatly trimmed cheek. "We're just discussing different hypothetical fathers for Prompto's baby," he explained and resumed his seat. 

"Regis?" Gladio asked. "Yeah. There was a few rumours. But I think Team Noct absorbed their ranks." 

He spluttered in horror. "What?!" 

Ignis bit his lip in amusement. "We were talking about the Marshal." 

Gladio eyed the broken glasses but didn't say anything about them. "Oh. Right. Yeah, you'd have to answer to his majesty." 

"Did everyone know about this but me?" Prompto cried. 

"Yes," Gladio deadpanned. "My father?" 

"Dude! Why did your brain even go there?" He wheezed in disbelief. 

"What? There were rumours. He visited you." 

"To make sure it wasn't yours!" 

Gladio paused. "Oh. That explains the Responsibilities and Duty To The Bloodline talk we had around then," he replied. 

"Why are all your options so mature in age, anyway?" Ignis asked curiously. "Do you have unresolved Father Issues?" He teased. 

Prompto threw a pillow at him. "I brought up Gladio and the Marshal!" he protested. "They're youngish!" 

"Why did I get the boot?" Gladio asked with a laugh. 

"You didn't. Iggy just stole the baby after it was born." 

An awkward silence followed, just a beat too long. Then Ignis cleared his throat. "Well, what about Nyx Ulric? He's comparatively young to your other choices, of course," he teased. "But he seems to be the domineering type you prefer." 

"All the Six, Iggy!" He wheezed, laughing and covering his face. "Really?" 

"Come on Igs," Gladio ribbed him, "we all know Prompto prefers smoking hot A-type babes who forget he exists and lazy A guys who'll make him do all the work in bed!" 

"Cindy did **not** forget who I was!" he sulked. 

"She _did_ call you Pronto," Ignis teased. 

"One time! _Once_!" he argued. 

The advisor only smirked. "Do you think the baby would come out saying _y'all_ if it was Cindy's?" He asked, too casually. 

Prompto stole his pillow back so he could throw at him again. Gladio intercepted it with a chuckle. "I'm beginning to see why you need replacement specs." He lazily tossed it back. "That Aranea chick?" He offered. 

"They did have that sojourn in the mangroves at the Vesperpool," Ignis replied. "Although you might accidentally give birth to a Marlboro. In those conditions." 

"Gross!" Prompto whined. 

"Are we sure it's not a chocobo?" Gladio asked innocently, grinning. 

Ignis laughed and Prompto threw the cushion at them both. "Rude!" 

Ignis held it in his lap comfortably. "I mean, we needn't look purely inside the Citadel. Prompto did have a life outside, you know? It might have been Sol Junior. I've heard him declare his intentions to do unsightly things for a portion of chilli fries!" 

The door opened slightly as Gladio commented. "Could be worse. Could've been _old_ Sol." 

"Oh, or that very attractive nurse from the estral wing at the hospital," Ignis chuckled. 

"What's going on?" Noct asked suspiciously, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"We're just listing Prompto's potential baby daddies," Gladio answered, his voice half-laughter. 

Noct's voice was calm and serious as he asked: "What about me?" 

Sudden silence filled the room, traces of the joke and their laughter dropping dead weight in the air. Prompto couldn't turn around to look at him, terrified of what he might see in his face, or what Noct might see in his. He had never really figured out for sure if Noct knew he was the father of the baby, but that was the answer there in the tense silence of the room. There'd been no playfulness in the prince's voice, only a solemn determination. 

"Noct," Ignis said carefully. "It was—" 

"I want to claim the child as mine. Publicly." Noct's voice was firm, decisive. 

Prompto closed his eyes, all the breath escaping his lungs. "Noct," he whimpered, wounded. "We talked about this. I said I didn't want to be—" 

"I know," Noct interrupted. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. "And I get it. It's a lot to ask you to give up your life and become the Crown Omega. I respect your choice. But I want to support the baby and this is the only way I know how to do it." 

"Noctis," Ignis said, his voice serious. He looked like he longed to take his glasses off and polish them. "There are a lot of consequences and implications to consider." 

"I know. I've thought about them. I'll tell my dad the truth, but all the rest of the world has to know is that the baby is mine." His voice was firm, resolved. The sound of a politician who had considered his stance and solidified it. Noct would be a strong, brilliant king someday. 

"The Council won't pleased," Gladio pointed out warily, almost like he didn't want to get involved at all. 

"The Councilmen gossip as much as the kitchen hands," the prince disagreed. "They know the rumours. All we'd be doing is confirming them." 

"You'd be expected to marry Prompto," Ignis pointed out. Prompto felt his voice catch in his throat in a wordless protest. 

"They can't make me," Noctis said with a shrug. 

"They'd pressure you. Try and have you elevate Prompto to your Delicium at least. Maybe even preferably, since some still haven't given up the idea of you making a royal match." 

"Then they can fight Aranea to the death over Luna because she's the only eligible blue blood left in Eos." Noct snapped. "Specs it's the eighth century. The council can deal with me having a baby out of wedlock. Or they can all retire and open up the seats for younger people who aren't such sticks in the mud." 

Ignis cleared his throat awkwardly. "I just want you to be cognisant of the sorts of things you will face in consequence of such an announcement." He cringed. "And there very well may be public outcry." 

"What are they going to do? Abdicate me? And put who in my place, exactly? I don't have any siblings or cousins." 

"I believe Clarus is next in line," Ignis said thoughtfully. "Your great-grandfather's sister married Gladio's great-great grandmother." 

"But that makes you like… cousins!" Prompto protested, mind-blown. 

"Third cousins once removed," Gladio said with an indifferent shrug. 

"But Iris has a crush on him!" he remembered, wrinkling up his face. 

"Kings of Yore have married closer connections," Ignis replied. 

Okay ignoring that because history was gross. "That means you're like… three assassinations from being king!" he pointed out to Gladio. 

"And that's why I've dedicated my life to making sure Noct and his spawn live long, fruitful lives," the Shield replied calmly. "I don't wanna deal with that shit." 

"Aw. It wouldn't be so bad. Iggy could be your queen!" he teased. 

Ignis pursed his lips. "Prince-regent," he corrected. "And he'd have to admit to his father that we're bonded first." 

There was suddenly a tension between the two of them that Prompto hadn't expected. They always seemed so chill, not open about their relationship but at least friendly and professional with each other around others. They'd even started acting couply around Prompto, since he knew now. 

"...we're getting off-topic," Ignis said, his lips pursed. "Prompto — how do you feel about Noct's decision?" 

Couldn't they talk about Iggy and Gladio's relationship drama instead? That sounded like a lot less horrible. 

"Does it matter?" He asked, flat and resigned. "It's not like I have a choice. If Noct wants to announce it, there's nothing I can do. What could I even, tell everyone I come across it's not true? Who are they gonna believe?" 

"Hey," Noct said gently. He crawled across the bed so he was on the other side of Prompto, in his line of vision. He laid down, head just resting on the very edge of the pillow. 

Prompto couldn't help but notice he was placing himself lower — A and O power balances weren't the basis of social interactions any more, they'd evolved beyond it socially. But that was a classic submissive body language. It was a huge power move - not to claim power, to gift it. Noct was a goddamn Prince, he should _never_ pull something like this. 

"Noct…" He stuttered. 

"Of course you have a choice, Prompto," he replied. "I came here to get your permission, not to _tell_ you." 

"It didn't sound like a question," he muttered. "You sounded pretty decisive." 

"I'm resolved on my part," he agreed. "But it's all up to you, Prom." 

Gladio cleared his throat loudly. "Alright. We're gonna make ourselves scarce. Call when you've made a decision!" And then the two of them were practically running from the room. 

"Real fucking subtle," Noct muttered, raising his head to watch them go through the door. He dropped it back down after Prompto heard the door close. "Prom?" 

"Yeah?" He said, avoiding his eyes. 

"I'm not Gladio and Iggy," he said quietly. "I don't have a wage. I'm not allowed to own real estate. There's almost nothing I can do to help you, and them." A hand ghosted over the roundness of his belly, but didn't make contact. "I can't even really be there for you. Not really. If I'm in a meeting, I can't even answer the phone to let you vent. You're my best friend, and I love you. I want to be here for you, for them. But unless people think I have a reason — the Councilmen, the Kingsglaive. The official people that run my life." 

"But if you tell them?" Prompto asked uncertainly. 

"There are more options… but there'll be restrictions too," he said quietly, honestly. He didn't meet Prompto's eyes. "Like Iggy said. There'd be pressure. They'd be all over me — but they'll try and pressure you too. They'll tell you there's no other option, they'll bribe you, they'll threaten you." He met Prompto's eyes finally, but they were apologetic and sorrowful. "They'll tell you they can take the baby away." 

He jolted backwards, terror seizing him. Hands curled protectively around his belly, his baby. "No! They can't! **You** can't — I won't _let_ you." 

"You need to calm down," Noct said gently. "I'm gonna use your cheat button, okay?" Hands slow, he reached up and curled his fingers softly around the back of his neck. They pressed against his hair, applying the lightest pressure against the bite. 

Calm flowed over him, pushing away the panic. "Thanks," he mumbled. He took a few deep breaths as Noct removed his hand. "Cheat button. Heh." He met Noct's eyes again, hating the guilt he saw in them. "Okay. Okay, _can_ they actually take my baby away?" 

"No, they can't, I promise," Noct reassured him. "But they'll try to tell you they can. That he belongs to the the Crown." 

"But they can't," he reassured himself. "What restrictions then?" He asked. "What can they do?" 

"Technically they have no authority. In reality…" He sighed. "All decisions about royal blood belong to the Crown. His doctor, his barber, his nannies, his tutors, his schools, his extracurriculars. He'd have a Kingsglaive detail every minute of every day. If he's not named heir, that's where it will end. All that lies with the Crown — Dad, when he's in court. Me, if he's away from the Citadel. The Councilmen don't get to decide." 

"But…?" He pressed. 

"They can be stubborn, manipulative fucks," Noct grumbled. "When I wanted to go to public school, they pulled a — well, it's called a 'lack of quorum'. Basically, they sit in the council room and refuse to talk and nothing can get done." 

Prompto frowned. "But you _did_ go to school," he pointed out. 

"Yeah. Cause Dad threatened to replace them all with elected officials from each post code," Noct said, rolling his eyes. "But we can't pull that for every little thing. So when they _suggest_ their own options, they're not so much suggestions as demands." 

"Is that why you were in debate club for _years_ even though you slept through all the meetings and comps?" 

"Yep," he confirmed, pulling a face. 

Prompto frowned and huffed through his nose. "And the benefits are _what_ , exactly?" He grumbled. 

"The Crown has to pay for everything," Noct answered. "The fancy schools, nannies, medical treatments. It's been a while since there's been a royal who wasn't heir, so I don't know exactly what's the grooming experience, and what's just the royal treatment. The treasury paid for all my clothes, the Crown owns the apartment I lived in during high school." He rubbed the hair at the back of his neck. "Pretty sure even now the only things I actually own are my weapons and the Audi. And, like, the games I used to buy with the money I earned at my part-time job." 

He pulled a face at the prince. "If this is just about money, Noct, then I'm out." 

"No!" he said, looking awkward. "I'm not saying you can't afford to… or any of that," he corrected quickly. "I'm just trying to… sugar coat things." He shifted restlessly. "You could live at the place Specs is buying for you, I'd insist on that. But you'd both be able to come stay with me here at the Citadel whenever you wanted. _I_ could leave the Citadel, basically whenever, to go visit you. I'd know you were safe, because there'd be a Kingsglaive with you at all times. You could have a nanny, so if you were stressing out about the whole single parent thing, then you'd have someone there to help you." He reached up gently to shift a lock of hair from Prompto's fringe to the side. "I don't want you to go through this alone, and I know you have Iggy and Gladio. But _I_ want to help too. I want to be there for you both, as much as I can — and this is the only way I can think of that you haven't already vetoed." 

Prompto was silent for a long time. Carefully thinking over Noct's words. Okay, so part of it really did seem to come from a selfish space — not wanting to lose the opportunity to spend time with Prompto, to preserve their friendship. Prompto couldn't even blame him for that though. It wasn't like he was invested in the baby, or that he really wanted him. He didn't want to shout from the rooftops that he had a _kid_. But he _did_ seem sincere about wanting to be there for _Prompto_ though, and that warmed a part of his chest he'd been trying to kill off since Caem. 

_I love you_ , he thought wildly. 

But instead, he took a deep breath. "Can I think about it?" 

"Of course," Noct said softly. "We've still got months yet, right?" 

Well, a little bit less than two. He nodded silently, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. "Can you get Iggy to research more? See what exactly being the illegitimate kid of the future king means for him? What will be expected, what the Crown and the Council control?" 

Noct nodded, and then gently rested his forehead against Prompto's, eyes fluttering closed. "Thank you," he murmured. 

"I haven't said yes yet," he grumbled. 

"But you're thinking about it. And that means more to me than you can understand." Which was a weird comment, but like… Noct had always been just that edge of cryptic sometimes. 

"Okay. Now pull over the laptop, there's a new Podcast of Insomnia Tales up tonight." 


	3. The Son

"Still won't tell you if it's a boy or a girl, huh?" Noctis asked, frowning at a big stack of paperwork. 

"No!" Prompto huffed, agitated. "They're not allowed to, apparently. I mean, number of y-chromosomes in the equation it's probably gonna be a boy? But no. They won't tell me. They can send a confidential email to a baker for a reveal cake, but they won't tell _me_ which is bullshit." 

The prince made a low "Hm", turning over a page of his report. 

"You're not listening to me, are you?" He asked suspiciously, squinting over at the report. 

"Uh-Huh. Course I am," Noctis replied. "You've got my full attention." He uncapped a pen with his teeth (dude gross) and made some notes in the margins of the page. 

"So I had Iggy look into the whole heir-versus-blood royal thing," Prompto began cautiously. "It's been a while since they've had a royal bastard in the court." 

"Makes sense," Noctis said absently. 

"You'll have to bequeath them a title, I think. Probably a duchy, but that might've been if you wanted to have them as an heir if you don't have any more kids?" 

"Mhm." Scribble scribble, notes notes. 

"Are you gonna have any? Secure the line?" 

"Mm," non-committal. Could be a yes or a no. More likely it was an ' _I stopped listening to you a while back_ ' hum. 

Oh nobody ignored Prompto! Well, okay lots of people did. But not when you were keeping your heavily pregnant best-friend baby 'mega company because he wasn't allowed to go outside because of the smog! 

Teasing time. "Of course it'd be okay if you wanted to make this one your heir." 

"Really." 

"You'd have to marry me, of course. Not just make me your crown omega. I'm talking the full royal wedding. Bigger than your last was supposed to be." 

"Yeah." 

"But I'd want more than that. I'd need a secure position, just in case the council tried to usurp me. I think a duchy of my own?" 

"Sure. Whatever you want." 

"Okay. I think I'll take Duscae. For the chocobo farm, obviously." 

"Obviously. Chocobos, duh." 

"Alright. We can go there for our honeymoon, I'd like that. The caravan, real classy." 

"Yeah." 

"And then I can strip off naked and you can fuck me under the moonlight, with all the Chocobos watching." 

"Yeah. Under the—" Noctis's head jolted up. "Wait what?" 

Prompto threw a cushion at him. "You're ignoring me!" he protested, unashamed of his pouting. 

"Sorry Prom." He capped the pen and pushed the paperwork away. He curled into the mattress next to Prompto, fingers going up to toy with the locks of his hair above his mating bite. "Iggy gave me a stack of paperwork to read. I got distracted. What were you saying?" 

"Nothing," he huffed. "I was just complaining about stuff. You don't have to hang in here if you've got work to do. You could go somewhere where they're allowed to turn actual lights on. You'll hurt your eyes reading in the dark." 

"I just wanted to spend time with you," Noctis said. "Even if we were just sitting in the same room, doing our own thing. I didn't think about it." He shifted his hand down to cup Prompto's waist, thumb lightly resting against his rounded belly. 

"Nah. It's okay. I'm sorry I flipped." He let his eyes flutter closed. "Can we blame pregnancy hormones?" 

"Pretty sure that's cheating," Noct muttered. "You can't use that excuse forever!" 

"I can use it until the last possible minute," he replied. "...which can't come soon enough." He reached down to rub his swollen belly. There was a couple weeks left but that was still way too many. 

Noctis groaned. "That's still ages away. I'll have to find something to counteract." 

"It's not ages, don't curse me like that dude." He rubbed at his belly. "Come out already, Mini Argentum!" 

"...Argentum?" Noctis asked quietly. There was something almost hurt in the sound of his voice. 

He opened his eyes to give him a concerned look. "Yeah?" He echoed. "Is that… not what you wanted?" 

"I mean. They're gonna be mine right? That's what we decided? So they should be a Lucis Caelum…" 

"Did we decide?" Prompto asked, wrinkling his face up in confusion. "I don't remember saying yes. I thought we agreed Iggy would do more research." 

"...yeah. You're right. I guess I just got ahead of myself." Noct's thumb brushed across the fabric of his shirt. "Have you thought about it…?" 

He sighed. "Kinda. I don't know Noct. It seems complicated and… in the end you still get saddled with the responsibility of a child you didn't want. Sure, you get to keep hanging out with me, but I still don't really see what you get out of it." 

"Me helping you out really doesn't seem like a good enough reason to you, does it?" Noct sighed. 

He sighed. "I don't want to need help," he said. "I've got the pension. Iggy and Gladio have decided on a duplex to rent me — they think I don't know they're buying both sides so they own the whole building but they are _wrong_ — but I could manage alone. If I needed to." 

"That's the point, Prom," Noctis said quietly. "You don't have to manage alone. We're gonna be here for you." He shifted his hand, resting his palm against the protrusion between them. "I'm gonna be here for you. If you let me." 

He hummed, letting his eyes flutter closed again. "S'nice of you, Noct," he mumbled. "But there's gotta be some other way for you to do it. One that doesn't end with you tied to a kid you don't want." 

"What if I did want?" Noctis asked carefully. 

"Dude," he said, opening one eye to give him a tired glare. "You don't." 

"I could!" he protested with a huff. 

"You call them an 'it' on a regular basis. And you called them a xenomorph less than an hour ago." 

"It just _looks_ weird when the foot comes out. It's just not natural!" Noct argued defensively. 

Prompto leaned up to flick his ear with a huff. "It so is natural. One of the most natural things ever." He rubbed his belly. "Don't listen to him Argentum." 

His hands brushed against Noct's still on his belly, and he paused — waiting for him to move his hand. But he didn't, just keeping it there. 

"You're in like, intense broody mode, Noct," he mumbled. "What's up?" 

"I just…" He sighed. "I've always known gotta have an heir at some point, probably. Unless I wanted to stick Gladio or Iris with the responsibility. I'm just… trying to imagine it. A baby." His thumb lightly rubbed around the protruding belly button. "It's scary." 

Prompto snorted slightly. "What've you got to be scared about? It's not like you're gonna be stuck carrying it." 

"But what do you even do with babies?" He continued. "Do you talk to them? You can't hold a conversation with them. What if they chew on your stuff?" 

Prompto laughed softly at him, reaching up to tuck a bit of Noct's hair behind his eyes. "You think I'm any less terrified and confused, Noct? I don't _have_ a mom to ask. I'm stuck with a thousand questions and the only person I can ask is Iggy or the midwife. I can ask them how to change a diaper or what to do if the baby won't eat. I can't ask them the little stuff — like will my belly button ever turn back into an innie? And what if my baby just doesn't like me? And why do I hate the smell of eggs so much?" He sighed. "Least I'll never have to go through this again." 

Noct looked at him seriously. "You're still solid on that decision, huh?" 

"It was a crazy set of circumstances that led to this anyway. Probably never happen that way again. Besides, I wouldn't wanna bring yet _another_ innocent kid into the mess of having me for a single parent." 

Noctis frowned to himself for a long moment, then met Prompto's eyes. "You don't have to be a single parent, Prompto," he said earnestly. "I'd be with you." 

He sat up a little, startled. The baby kicked him in protest at the sudden movement. "I'm sorry **what**?" He demanded. 

Noctis winced at his shout. "I offered to…" 

"You offered to claim the baby, and make me your Crown Omega. To get the castle staff and resources involved in their upbringing. You never once said _you_ wanted to be." 

Noct looked at him in disbelief. "Dude. Did you seriously think I was going to publically front without stepping up?" 

"Uh… _duh_!" Prompto replied, heart racing. "That's exactly what you made it sound like!" 

"Prom you need to calm down," Noctis said soothingly. He reached up and pressed into his mating bite, washing instant calm over him. "We'll talk about this another time, 'kay?" He said gently. 

"You're running out of other times," he mumbled, sinking back into the plush mattress. "Baby's gonna be born before you can make a decision about this." 

Noctis continued to lightly stroke his neck through his hair — no direct skin contact with the bite, that changed the nature of the sensations he'd be giving. "I'm ready to go on your say-so, Prompto. Just give me the word." 

"You told your dad yet?" Prompto asked, leaving one eye open to squint at him. 

"Not yet. Do you want me to?" He asked. 

"Yeah. I think it's pretty damn important. He should know when he's about to become a grandpa." 

Noct kissed the crown of his hair. "I'll request a private audience with him. Next week, probably. That make you feel better?" 

"Yeah," he said, eyes heavy. "As long as he doesn't throw me in a dungeon." 

Noctis laughed slightly. "You're stuck in a tower. He'll just lock the door." 

"Mm. I'm not growing out my hair so you can climb it." 

"I'll warp." 

*** 

He poked his belly impatiently. "Come out already!" he demanded. "I've had enough! Your due date is in 6 days, that's enough! Give me back my bladder and my dick and my back not constantly hurting!" 

There was a deep, unfamiliar chuckle from the doorway. He glanced over and sat up a little, panicked. "Your majesty!" He flushed. "Uh. I'd bow, but…" 

King Regis just held up a hand to silence him. Limping heavily, he approached the bed and sunk into Gladio's armchair, setting his cane to rest against the armrest. "I think you can be forgiven — in this late stage of your condition." He pressed his fingertips together and surveyed Prompto seriously. "You're due in six days, you say?" He questioned. 

"Yes, your majesty," he replied, hands trying to cover his belly protectively — even though there was way too much expanse to succeed. 

"And then I am to welcome a grandchild." He didn't state it like a question, but there was something almost challenging about it. 

Prompto cringed. "Don't be mad at Noct," he pleaded. "He was just helping me out. It was an unregulated heat… and they told me I'd be infertile anyway!" 

King Regis just watched him, silent and severe. 

He winced again. "He didn't plan this. It's cool he wants to step up and take responsibility, but he really doesn't have to. I don't know what he told you, about what he was planning to do. But he doesn't have to do any of it! I'm not expecting anything. Specs and Gladio — Uh, Ignis and Gladiolus. They're helping me out with finding a house and stuff. I'll be fine. The baby will be fine." 

The king lowered his steepled fingers and gave Prompto a scrutinising look. "My son mentioned two intended courses of actions — one you had firmly vetoed, and another you were still considering." 

"He wants to publicly claim the baby," Prompto nodded in confirmation. 

"Yet you refused to allow him to claim _you_." Again, not a question. Maybe kings couldn't ask questions or something. 

He bowed his head, rubbing his belly. "There's things, I've done…" Okay he could _not_ admit to the king what he'd done at Caem, not if he wanted to keep his head after the baby was born. "I severed a bond in Altissia. I can never mate. Noctis doesn't deserve that. He deserves someone he can have, wholly. Someone who can properly make him happy." He paused as the baby elbowed his hand impatiently. "There's nothing I can do to stop him if he wants to claim the baby once they're born. But I can make sure he doesn't screw up his future and his happiness any more than he has to." 

"I _could_ order the two of you to marry," King Regis said, his voice utterly unreadable of any emotion. "But I suppose six days is little time, even to save my grandchild being labelled a bastard." He sat back in his chair, easing the position of his knee slightly. "And you're sure it's his?" Whoa, an actual question. 

He blushed. "Yeah. Noct is the only guy I've ever… He's the only option." 

"I could quietly marry you off to another," Regis continued — but that sounded more like an offer than a threat. "Noct wouldn't be forced to claim the child then, or have guilt about your being a single parent." 

"He's not being _forced to_ now!" Prompto protested, temper flaring up. But he trampled it down. Right. No yelling at the king. "Sorry. Pregnancy hormones!" 

"Aulea used to claim the same thing. I choose to believe she was just grumpy about Noct's propensity to elbow her kidneys." 

Was that a joke? Did the king just _joke_ with him? He gave an awkward uncertain laugh — and was rewarded with an indulgent sort of smile. 

But then he grew serious again. "My son is quite determined to put his reputation in shambles for you." 

"Then talk him out of it," Prompto sighed. "I've told him plenty — I can manage. He doesn't have to do this." 

"It isn't a matter of what he must do, nor even doing the honourable thing," the king replied. "There is so little to be done once my son has made up his mind about something he _wants_." 

"So… you came up here to get me to convince him he doesn't want it?" Prompto guessed tiredly. "If you're not having any luck, what more would I have?" 

"I came to speak with you," King Regis corrected. "To have some questions answered, to learn a little more." He looked at Prompto seriously. "Do you love my son?" 

He made a mortified whimper and freed one hand to cover his face. "Does that matter?" He asked, his cheeks hot. "It doesn't change the reality." 

"Does it not?" 

"He made _one mistake_." Okay, three days of one mistake helping him through his heat but… details the king did not need to know. "He was helping out a friend. How I feel doesn't change who he is, doesn't change that he's the sweetest, sleepiest guy in the world — who deserves the best mate in the world. Or the fact that he's in love with Iggy." 

The king made a quiet noise of surprise. "You posit that Noctis is in love with his Chamberlain, Ignis Scientia." 

"It's true. They're never gonna do anything about it, so don't worry about a scandal. Or… that particular scandal. Definitely worry about the scandal of his bastard baby born to a Niff refugee without a family to speak of — let alone a noble one." 

"Do you believe your bloodline matters to Noctis?" 

"I know it doesn't," he whispered, "he's told me that before. But we can't pretend it won't matter to other people." 

"Indeed." Regis looked at him a long moment. "May I feel…?" 

"Oh. Yeah." He gestured. "He doesn't move around that much anymore unless he has to. He hasn't got much room left." 

The king reached out uncertainly, hand hovering above the fabric of Prompto's maternity shirt. Smiling, he reached up and grabbed it, placing it near the side where he'd last felt them roll. "Round about here." 

The king rubbed, something like wonder in his eyes. "I had feared I would never see a grandchild," he confessed at a whisper. "After the treaty, and the empire attacked, it seemed like a distant dream. The hopes of a different world. One long lost." 

Prompto nodded in agreement. "It's kinda amazing, in a terrifying 'oh god I'm about to become a single parent at 21' kinda way." 

The king gave a final rub and removed his hand. "Even if Noctis should choose not to claim the child as his own," he declared — that tone of voice couldn't be anything other than declaring — "the Crown will do whatever you ask to make easy the life of its bloodline." He paused, and then have Prompto a warm smile. "And a certain grandfather will do anything to make his grandchild the happiest in the world." 

Prompto smiled tiredly. Didn't even try to have the Mr Independent argument with the literal king. "I appreciate that, your majesty." 

*** 

"Two weeks!" he hissed at his belly, leaning heavily against the wall of the staircase. "You make me wait two extra weeks, and then you insist on coming out the _one_ day Ignis and Gladio have an non-reschedulable appointment for inspecting their property!" 

In answer, every muscle in his abdomen seized up to push _down_. Try to push something far too big out of a channel impossibly too small. He cried out in pain, grabbing on to the banister to keep himself on his feet. Less than ten seconds, he had to wait until thirty before it was a _real_ problem. 

But gods _damn_ it, where the fuck _was_ everyone? Shouldn't this place be crawling with servants?! Stupid cellphone charger. Unplugging itself in the middle of the night. 

Taking deep breaths, he continued to ease himself down the stairs. "H-help!" He called out. "Hello?" 

His voice echoed down the stairwell, but nothing. He muttered, continuing his way. "Let's put you in the tower, Prompto. It'll be nice and out of the way, Prompto. Quiet, where no one will disturb you. Yeah. Great idea!" And he sure as fuck wasn't getting in the elevator! With his luck, he'd be trapped in there and have to give birth alone and slowly bleed to death because _male omega didn't survive natural births._ So stairs it was! 

He reached the bottom of the staircase, where the tower joined with the main structure of the Citadel. There had to be someone here right? "Someone! Hello!" 

"Prompto?" 

"Oh, thank fuck. Noct." He grabbed onto Noct's arm as soon as he was close. But once he was steady, his entire body clenched with another contraction. He felt something _gush_ and then — just great — his pyjama pants were soaked. "A-Ah…" He managed out, once the scream and the pain had died down. "Call Iggy. I'm going into labour." 

"You're _what_?" Noct asked, his voice cracking with panic. 

Prompto gave him a weak smile and squeezed his arm. "Relax. Not yet. My water only just broke. But I really do need to get to the hospital." 

"I'll get you a wheelchair!" Noctis said quickly, frantic. 

"No, it's fine. I wanna walk a bit longer. It helps." He took a few unsteady steps, his entire back one giant pain. 

"No, we need to go now," Noct said panicky. "It's too early!" 

"Early?" Prompto huffed. "They're two weeks overdue, the brat." 

"Wh-what?" 

Prompto didn't get to answer, his abdomen clenched with another contraction — he tried not to scream for this one. Just gritted his teeth and moaned through it. He hoped he didn't sound like a garulessa. 

"Noct?" He panted. "Iggy!" he reminded him. "He's got my hospital bag in his car." 

"R-right." Noct fumbled with his phone, but he walked Prompto to the elevator as he called. It rang straight to voicemail — odd, for Ignis — but Noct left a frantic message and hung up again. "Hospital. Right? Yes?" 

"Yeah. Hospital." He laughed slightly. "Re _lax_ , Noctis. This part can last days." 

"Days?!" Noctis repeated, voice breaking again. 

Prompto laughed again. "You're stressing out more than I am. Chill, dude." And since Noctis didn't seem to be thinking, he pressed the button for the elevator. He didn't worry as much with Noct here — he could pry the doors open with a sword and let Prompto climb out at least. 

He leaned against the wall as the elevator descended, giving another low moan into the feeling of the contraction. 

"What can I do? Prom, is there something I can to to help? Tell me what to do?" Noctis asked. 

"Wear a rubber from now on," he muttered. 

Noctis didn't seem to hear him, he just stood behind Prompto, awkwardly rubbing circles into his back. "Should I try Iggy again?" 

"Uh-Huh," he replied. "Might as well." 

The doors pinged open and a pleasant voice announced it was the back lobby. He waddled out, gripping Noct's arm for support. 

"Your Highness?!" One of the Kingsglaives asked, sounding worried. 

Prompto waved him off, since Noct was still on the phone. "I'm going into labour," he explained. "Can someone flag down a taxi, or… bring a car around would probably be better. And towels! If there's any on hand." 

"Yes, Sir!" the 'glaive replied quickly. 

"Don't call me sir," he muttered. 

The call rang through again. Prompto paced back and forth across the lobby, until the 'glaive announced the car was there. 

"Thanks." He eased himself off Noct's arm, steadying himself on his own feet. "Keep trying Iggy? Just send him to the hospital whenever you get ahold of him." 

"I'm coming with you," Noctis announced stubbornly. 

He just shrugged. "Okay." He was hardly gonna tell Noct he couldn't come to the hospital for the birth of his own baby. He made his way to the car — aww, and there were towels spread on the backseat. Grateful, he sunk down into the seat and carefully clicked the belt in so it didn't compress his belly. 

"Highness," the driver commented, as Noct literally warped into the other side of the back seat, "there was an incident in the surrounding suburbs. The traffic is quite bad at the moment." 

"I don't care," Noct snapped. "He's in _labour_ , get to the damn hospital." 

"I'm not in labour _yet_ ," Prompto replied, rolling his eyes. "Just do your best, 'kay?" 

But the driver wasn't wrong about the traffic. It crawled along less often than it was at a complete stand still. Flashing the royal pass and with liberal use of the horn, the driver managed to get them waved through by traffic controllers early, but there was still the congestion. 

The contractions stretched, grew closer and closer together. By the time he counted thirty, with less than five minutes apart, he gripped Noct's hand in a vicious hold. Panting in the wake of the last one, he met his friend's eyes. "Okay. Now I'm in labour." 

"Fuck it!" Noct swore. He threw the door open, to the angry horns on the surrounding sides. He ran around to the other side and helped Prompto out of the car. "We're walking. We'll get there faster than this." 

He held his belly tightly, breathing hard. "Noct, I don't even know if I can make it all that way walking." 

"We're gonna try. Can't exactly warp you like this." Arm around his waist, with a surprising amount of strength, he basically lifted Prompto toward the footpath. 

Halfway down the street, as Prompto nearly doubled over with the force of his contraction, one of the shopkeepers came out with a wheelchair. 

Noctis thanked him sincerely, Prompto tried but he couldn't manage more than moaning in pain and breathing. 

They finally managed to catch Ignis a block away from the hospital — he and Gladio were stuck in the traffic jam on the other side of the surrounding suburbs. But they had the bag and would get there as soon a they could. 

Noctis was exhausted by the time they reached the right ward, adrenaline or not, limping heavily on his childhood injury. 

The midwife came to whisk Prompto's chair away — he glanced in anxiety back towards Prompto as the prince collapsed into a waiting room chair with a bottle of water. Taking a deep breath, fighting against the irrational fear that he wanted Noctis _in there with him_ , he tried to relax back into the wheelchair. 

*** 

Noctis's POV 

No matter how exhausted he was, he couldn't stop pacing the room outside the operating theatre. They wouldn't let him in — "even the second father isn't allowed in during male-O births" — but he couldn't help but pace and panic and feel overwhelmed. 

Prompto should be too early. If his maths was right, Prompto was only just into his third trimester. But they couldn't be right — because Prompto had said they were two weeks _overdue_. But that would make it…? 

He sunk into a seat, resting his knee. He counted back on his fingers. December now, which meant Prompto would've… in April. 

He swallowed anxiously. But April had been… when he… at the heat clinic… 

And in April he'd been weaning of the Lestallum regulators so he could go back on the A-Tab... 

He stood up to pace again. Tried to find some proof against it. Tried to find something other than his counting that said he _wasn't…_ Anything Prompto had said to deny it, deny him as… 

Prompto had never talked about him _pretending_ the baby was his to the public. Only about him telling people it was his. About how he wouldn't have a choice if Noct decided to. And… and he'd never said _'pretend'_ either. 

Oh _six_. Did Prompto think he **knew** that baby was his? He turned to the door of the operating theatre, stomach twisting up with guilt and anxiety and shame. 

"First kid, huh?" A middle-aged man asked, hardly looking up from his newspaper he was reading to see who he was talking to. 

"That obvious?" He asked. 

"You're a ball of nerves. Don't worry, kid. That all goes away when you see your O holding your baby for the first time." 

He's not my O, Noctis thought, eyes locked on the door. He was never mine. 

But no… he was once. He rubbed at the centre at his chest, where he had to _imagine_ their bond had been. Because he'd never got to feel it. 

The door opened and a nurse appeared with a smile. "Would you like to come see?" 

He rushed over before he'd even registered the question. He stepped inside the room, feeling his breath shaky in his lungs. 

Prompto was unconscious on a gurney, a curtain up between his chest and his lower half. Doctors and nurses were still busy behind the curtain, murmuring to each other between the sounds of surgical tools. He looked so peaceful, pale blond eyelashes almost invisible fanned out on his cheeks. 

"Your Highness?" The nurse in a funny apron asked, smiling at him. "Would you like to hold him?" 

"Him?" He croaked out. His eyes zeroed in on the bundle of blue blankets in her arms. So small, so impossibly small. 

She nodded, carefully pressing the bundle into the crook of his arm. "Meet your son," she said quietly. 

The whole world seemed to narrow down to the squished up face peeking out of the folds of the blanket. Ruddy skin, that would probably freckle the instant it touched the sun — Prompto's mouth with the almost invisibly thin top lip and pouty bottom lip. But there was something about his nose… and the sparse patch of hair on his head was black. 

" _My_ son," he whispered in awe. He raised his other hand to carefully press one finger against the chubby, baby cheeks. 

He stirred, made a squeaky noise of protest, and settled back down to sleep. 

"He's not crying?" 

"He cried plenty at first," the nurse reassured him. "But he's calm now. We did all the weighs and checks. He's perfectly healthy. And ready for you to take him out to the maternity room if you want. Your O will be us for a little while longer, until his anaesthesia wears off." 

"Shouldn't he be in here?" Noctis asked, confused. 

"Your son needs skin-to-skin contact, and a bottle of formula, as soon as possible. Your O will be groggy with it for a while. It's best if you…" 

He just nodded, and followed her out of the theatre. The hospital room was warm and dark, and the nurse helped him change into a sort of hospital gown shirt thing that tied up at the front. Then she unwrapped the blankets and pressed the baby against his chest, putting a towel underneath and then securing the shirt around them both and the blanket after. Then she showed him how to prepare the formula the baby would need — since Prompto didn't _have_ milk ducts — and how to burp him, and helped the baby latch on to the nip of the bottle. 

He curled possessively away from her when she reached out to touch the baby, but she smiled reassuringly and just lightly rested her fingers on the bare skin of his back. "I just need to check his heartbeat, dear," she reassured him. After a moment she smiled and nodded. "Perfectly okay. I'll let the two of you bond while I check on your O, okay dear?" 

He tuned out once she was out of the room. It was a little bottle, not full of much, and his baby was suckling slowly and sleepily. He felt so very _tiny_ tucked up on Noct's chest, little fists bunched up against him. He reached out to touch the soft cheek again — and this time he opened his eyes to look up at him. They were so very blue. Not his blue, or Prompto's almost-violets. The bluest blue that had ever blued. 

Would that change? He didn't know. He didn't know anything about babies. 

"Hello," he said, looking down into the eyes of _his son_. The little head tilted towards him a little more, as if he _knew the sound of Noct's voice_. How was that even possible?? "I'm Noct. I'm your dad. Uh. Unless Prompto wants to be dad? I'm not really sure how you decide who is who…" 

The door opened and they wheeled Prompto in, putting the breaks on the gurney once it was next to the machines. He smiled at Noctis, so soft and fond — then one hand reached out and gave a grabby motion. "Baby." 

Noctis chuffed a laugh and carefully stood, bringing him over. He tucked up beside Prompto on the gurney and plucked open the tie of his hospital gown to expose his chest. Then he carefully shifted their baby over onto Prompto's chest, making sure to tuck the towel — and carefully showed Prompto how to hold the bottle. 

"Baby," Prompto repeated with a blissed our smile. 

Noctis chuckled and rested his head against Prompto's so he could look down at the hidden treasure too. "You're cute when you're doped up, Prompto." 

"I'm not that doped up," he argued. "I'm just… really really happy." He stroked a couple of fingers across the dark head of hair. "S'it a boy? Thought the midwife said boy." 

"Yeah," Noctis said, something done and happy and sweet blossoming in his chest. "That's our son." 

*** 

Noctis was a _baby hog_! 

He was always cuddling their boy close, never let them put him down for a sleep when he slept just fine against his chest. (Visiting hours didn't apply to princes apparently.) Hardly let the nurses touch him to do their tests and look him over. Wouldn't let any of them wash him or change his diapers. When Iggy and Gladio came in to meet, he wouldn't let them even _touch_ him — only look. 

He could usually be convinced to let Prompto have a turn. But never without an argument. 

("You got to have him for nine months!" 

"Yeah, and I _miss_ him! Give me my cuddles!") 

The baby seemed perfectly happy with this. He hardly even cried — which worried Prompto, but the nurses assured him he was fine. Just not a loud baby. 

("You'll be thankful for that in a few months, just you wait.") 

He was lying propped on the bed, their boy tucked against his chest, Noctis asleep beside him with one hand resting on the baby's back. The door opened and the midwife came in with a smile. "How are fathers and baby today?" She asked. 

"We're fine. They're as sleepy as each other," he mumbled, nodding to Noct. 

She ran through some usual questions, then put down a folder on the bedside table. "I've brought the paperwork for the birth certificate. Have you decided on a name yet, dear?" 

"No," he admitted. "He's just been 'our boy'," he said, blushing. 

"Well, there's no hurry dear. We like to have the certificate printed before you're sent home, but you do have thirty days really." She petted his hair and headed back out. 

"Noct," he whispered, once the door was closed again. 

"Mmf?" 

"Are you actually asleep, or pretending to be so you don't have to get off the bed?" 

"...the first one?" 

Prompto laughed softly, trying not to jostle their boy from his comfortable place. "Quit pretending. We have to talk." 

"That's not enticing," he muttered, peeking one eye open to look at Prompto. 

"It's not that serious, chill dude," he said, rolling his eyes. "We've just gotta talk about his name." 

Noctis yawned and opened both eyes. "Mm. Okay. That's worth it I guess." 

"I guess… we need to start," Prompto hesitated. He swallowed anxiously and pushed himself to speak: "start with whether he's an Argentum or a Lucis Caelum." 

Noctis's eyes drifted down to their boy, one finger stroking over his clothed back. "I want him to be a Lucis Caelum. You know I do. Whether you let me tell the world he's mine or not." 

Prompto bit his lip. There was no question now of Noctis being around to help raise him — it was obvious now the question would be how to get Noctis to leave him alone long enough to go do his princely duties. (He'd leave that to being Iggy's problem.) 

"There's… there's a lot attached to him being given your name," Prompto whispered. "He could never be a normal kid. With a name like that, everyone would know he's a royal." 

"Being an Argentum would be safer for him," Noctis admitted reluctantly. "But I still want it." 

Prompto sighed. His fingers stroked down their boy's soft, dark hair. "If you're still determined to claim him, it wouldn't matter either way." 

Noctis took a deep breath. "I _want_ the whole world to know he's mine," he murmured. "I want to show him off to everybody in the kingdom, say ' _this is ours. We made this_ '." He paused, and then ducked his eyes. "But… but that might be because I haven't had time to get used to the idea yet." 

Prompto made a confused noise. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Prompto, I spent the last three months thinking you were carrying another man's baby." He said it all in a rush, as if forcing himself to get it out. "I'm still floating to know I was wrong. That he's mine. That he's _ours_." 

Prompto sat up a little, their boy giving a little squeak of complaint at the movement. "You didn't know." 

The prince shook his head. "You told me three months, in the hospital. I wasn't counting right." 

He couldn't shake the disbelief, the denial. "But you wanted to claim him. You wanted to _marry me_!" 

Noctis's cheeks went just a little pink. "Yeah?" 

"But you… he… wha…" He couldn't get his head around it long enough to actually figure out a question he could ask to figure out the tangled mess in his head. "All that for a kid you didn't think was yours?" He worked out eventually. 

"Not for him," Noctis said, avoiding his eyes by focusing on their boy. "For you. I would've done it all for you." 

"But… But you… but I…" He sat back on the bed, head _spinning_ with this new information. Noctis would've thrown away his life, his reputation, his chance at being with someone he could mate with. And that had made sense when it was a sense of honour towards his unborn child. But it didn't make any sense at all if he'd never thought the baby was his. " _Why_?" 

"Do you really need to ask that question?" Noctis asked, embarrassed. 

"Uh, obviously dude. Because I have no idea how any of this makes sense!" 

Noct turned his head into the pillow and mumbled something, muffled by the fabric. Something that sounded suspiciously like "cause I love you, idiot". 

Prompto felt a dull thunk in his chest, and then he snorted. "Dude. No you don't." 

Noct lifted his head to glare at him. "What? Yes I do!" 

"No you _don't_. You love Iggy." Noct just had to be confused. Muddled by something. Got his facts wrong somewhere and messed himself around. 

"That doesn't mean I… Prompto, I _mated_ you!" He gestured at Prompto's neck, like there would be any doubt about what he meant. 

"No," Prompto rejected firmly. "You were trying to mate _Ignis_. You were so out of it, a shirt was enough to fool you into thinking it was him." 

"Intention or not — also, low blow Prom — I mated you. You know mating bonds can't form unless there's a significant emotional connection on at least one side, right?" 

Prompto could feel his face heat with a splotchy blush. He pressed his lips together, didn't answer. Yeah, he knew that. But he'd never thought it was _Noct_ 's side of things. 

"Oh. Oh!" Noctis sounded bursting with joy. "You love me back!" 

"No," he rejected again. "There's no _back_. You've got your lines crossed, probably ever since Caem. You love _Ignis_ , not me." 

"And why can't I?" Noctis asked, irritated. 

"Uh, because you're not an idiot?" Prompto said flatly. "Why would you even look at me when you were already looking at Iggy? He's _perfect_! Like literally perfect." 

"You know Specs _rejected_ me, right?" He demanded, his voice tight with anger. "And yeah, I've always had lingering feelings for him, but I'm not a _masochist._ It's not like I was never looking anywhere else!" 

He didn't get that. Why would he look anywhere else, if he was looking at Iggy? But more importantly, "Yeah but why would you look at _me_?" He demanded. 

"Prom!" Noctis snapped furiously. 

On his chest, their boy stirred with an unhappy whimper. Feeling guilty, Prompto carefully shushed him, gently rubbing two fingers across his back to calm him down. 

Noct's anger died down right away. With a sigh, he mumbled "I'm sorry Prom" and reached out to stroke fingers through their boy's hair. 

"It's okay," he replied softly. 

They didn't start the conversation again that day. 

*** 

Turns out His Majesty had done them a dirty anyway. When Ignis came in the next day after their argument, he'd handed them an official memo from the Citadel. 

_His Majesty King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII is proud to announce the birth of his grandson, born to Noctis Lucis Caelum and Prompto Argentum, on the evening of Monday, 15th of December._

_All citizens of Insomnia are welcome to join the festival in celebration of the birth on Friday the 19th of December. A public holiday is decreed for that day of this year._

"Well," Noctis said, hovering over Ignis's shoulder as he (so graciously) allowed him to hold their boy. "I guess there goes our chance of keeping it secret. Thanks, Dad." 

Prompto felt surprisingly calm. 

"He doesn't even know he's really mine," Noctis continued to complain. 

"Yes he does," Prompto said absently, not looking up from the paperwork as he carefully inked in Noctis's name under 'external parent' on the birth certificate application. "Hey, do I have to put CXIV on this? Cause it's an official document?" 

"No," Ignis replied, "it's part of his title, not his legal name. And Noct was born here, so you can put down 'Central Insomnia' for his place of birth." 

"Gotcha," he said, and carefully inked that in too. 

"I'm happy to fill in the documentation for you, Prompto," Ignis said kindly. 

"Get your own baby," he teased, looking up to poke his tongue at Ignis. (He took the joke much better this time.) But his eyes wandered over to Noct's stunned expression. "You okay there dude?" 

"What do you mean, Dad knew?" Noctis demanded. "I told him — what I thought was — the truth. That I didn't know who the father was but I was stepping up!" 

"Oh. Well, he came to visit," Prompto said with a shrug. "I was honest with him." 

Noctis's face settled into a serious scowl, and he went to sulk by the window. 

Prompto calmly penned in 'Lucis Caelum' under the section for the baby's last name. 

Ignis, ever observant, noticed that and, as he tucked newly knitted booties with a blue ribbon around their boy's feet, calmly asked: "have you decided on a name yet?" 

Noctis opened his mouth to say no, but Prompto spoke first. "I was thinking Argentum." When Noctis turned to give him a frustrated, upset look, he met his eyes and clarified: "Argentum Lucis Caelum." 

The frustration melted away to something unbearably soft and affectionate. He came over and carefully stole their boy away from Ignis, lying down with Prompto on the bed. "I like it," he said, with a smile. "Argentum Lucis Caelum. Our boy." 

"I'll inform his majesty," Ignis volunteered. "That way he can stop, as the colloquial puts it, ' _blowing up my phone_ ' to demand the information." 

Prompto couldn't help but laugh. "He's going to be as bad as you are, isn't he Noct?" 

He sulked. "No. Not gonna let him." 

Prompto just laughed, and turned to ink 'Argentum' under the section for given name. 

*** 

"Is he okay? Is he warm enough? Maybe we should grab him another blanket. It's supposed to snow tonight." 

"Noct, my dude, you need to fucking chill," Prompto laughed. "He's wearing thermal underthings, he's got double knitted jumpsuit, and booties and mittens and a knitted cap." He shook his head. "And we're taking the thermal blanket. If you're that worried about it, you can cuddle him under your jacket. Okay?" 

"Okay," Noctis added begrudgingly. "We'd better get out there." 

"Six, Noct. We're going to be standing on a balcony. Nobody is gonna snatch Argy out of our arms." 

"Dad might," Noct grumbled. 

"Yeah well. He's got grandpa privilege. And also he's the king. Not much we can do about that, dude." He lightly booped their son on the nose before he wrapped him up in the soft blue blanket. "Come on Argy. Time to go meet your adoring public." 

Probably from the nose poke, but laughingly timed after his words, Argentum's face wrinkled up and he let out an unhappy squeak. 

Prompto laughed. "Yep. He's yours, alright." Gently cradling him against his chest, he followed Noctis over to the balcony doors. 

He could hear the noise of the crowd down below, and their boy made an unhappy noise, tucking his face into Prompto's sweater. Yep, definitely his father's son. 

Regis was already sitting on a raised stage — and he waved them over eagerly. "There's my precious boy!" he said brightly. 

"Yeah, and I brought your grandson too," Prompto teased, coming over. 

Regis laughed, but his hands came out to ask for his turn in holding Argy. Noctis hovered, scowling. "Be careful, support his butt. No, don't lie him down like that, he doesn't like it." 

"Noct, I _have_ held babies before." Inside the blankets, Argy's legs kicked and he made an unhappy noise. 

"He likes it better when he's upright," Prompto explained quietly, adjusting his position, "up against your chest or shoulder. Not the cradle hold." 

"Alright," the king said, holding the bundle calmly. "Ignis informed me that you chose Argentum for a given name?" 

"Mhm," Prompto said, tucking the blanket up around the exposed neck. "Argy for short." 

Holding Argy carefully, Regis climbed down from the stage and walked to the edge of the balcony, leaning his hip against the railing to give his leg better support. The crowd fell silent, and he spoke, his voice echoing across the whole courtyard below. "I present: Argentum Lucis Caelum, the Hundred and Fifteenth in the line of the Lucii." The crowd's voices rose up in a cheer. 

"Noct," Prompto hissed, his eyes going wide. 

"Dad," Noct complained, scowling. "We hadn't decided yet if he was going to be heir." 

"Are you going to have another child?" Regis asked, coming back to his chair. Noct silently opened and closed his mouth. "Precisely. He can always abdicate later." He lightly tickled his finger across Argy's cheek. 

Prompto clenched his jaw tightly. "Noct." The prince carefully took Argentum out of his father's grip and brought him over to Prompto's protective hands. "You're the king. You run the country. But you don't run my life, and you don't get to make these kinds of decisions for my son," he said, raising his chin stubbornly. "Pull something like that again and you'll have to make a formal request to see him." 

The king smiled. "Yes. You'll do well, Prompto." He leaned back in his chair, satisfied. Because apparently that was a test. "Why don't the two of you go inside? You must be exhausted, and it's really too cold for him to be out. Noctis and I will oversee the celebrations. Ignis will come to collect you when we launch the lanterns." 

*** 

Okay, the duplex was nice. Prompto had to give Iggy that. And it definitely had three bedrooms, but the sting was taken off a bit when he saw it had been decorated more as a nursery/playroom than it had a bedroom. (There _was_ a daybed in there, but it was filled up with soft cushions and plush toys.) 

The house was clean and neat, the furniture modern (and probably ridiculously expensive) and simple and soft. There was a courtyard that led to a little bit of a backyard shared with the neighbours (not that he had any of those yet) — and in a fenced off area at the back was a vegetable garden that Prompto was pretty sure had been Ignis indulging himself more than anything. 

It had been fantastic, to come home from the hospital and have everything set up and ready. (He could do without the Kingsglaive standing on his front door like a terracotta warrior, but he'd refused when Prompto offered to let him come inside out of the cold.) The festival to celebrate Argy's birth was nice — and their boy had looked up at the floating lanterns with wonder, even though they probably just looked like blobs. 

He carefully lowered their boy into the elegant bassinet, onto his back for safety, tucking the blankets around him. "There we are," he cooed softly, as infant-blue eyes fluttered closed. Argy was still a perfect sleeper at least. 

Using the remote, he turned off the overhead lights. The ceiling, which had been painted a pretty blue with fluffy white clouds, was transformed in the dark. Previously-invisible paint lit up in the dark, showing a star map across the sky. He smiled indulgently — Ignis could spoil Argy. He didn't mind. 

He stood over the crib, just watching their boy as his little chest rose and fell in soft little sleeping breaths. He relaxed back when he felt arms embracing him from behind. "Finally free from royal duties?" 

"Mhm." Noctis's chin hooked over his shoulder. "He looks so cute when he's sleeping." 

"You think he looks cute all the time." 

"True." Noct's nose tucked into his neck, and then shifted slightly so his cheek rubbed against the bitemark. 

Prompto let out a soft moan, body melting back into him. But then the soft skin passed over the sensitive scars again and again, pulling out more moans from his chest. He reached up to grab Noct's hand with a tight grip. "Ah… Noct. What are you doing?" 

"It's late, and our boy's asleep. I was thinking I could take you into the bedroom and make you feel good." To punctuate that, his tongue slipped out to slide over the bite. 

Prompto cried out, knees buckling in absolute pleasure. It _was_ better than he'd felt in months (just over nine of them), and that was so tempting. "You're gonna make me wake Argy," he accused. 

"We'll turn the baby monitor on so we can hear him if he wakes up, and we can take the other end with us into our bedroom." 

"Our bedroom is it?" Prompto asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Noctis licked over his bitemark again, keeping Prompto's knees too weak to stand. "Uh-Huh. Ours." 

He reached up, tangling his fingers in Noct's hair. "I've told you before," he complained. "This is _cheating_." 

Noctis grinned against his neck. "And I told you before. If you want to even the field, you can _bite me_." 

Prompto definitely would have argued with that (Noct hadn't said _that_!) — But Noct scraped his teeth against the bite mark. His body arched up. Pleasure swept through his body, like Noct had pressed directly on the pleasure centres of his brain. 

His cry of pleasure stirred Argy, who made an unhappy noise and looked up at the ceiling. Prompto covered his mouth, breath heaving in his chest. Eventually, the baby blue eyes closed again and his breaths deepened again. 

Prompto shoved him backwards, blushing at a certain something poking against his ass. "Go wait in the bedroom!" he hissed. "Not naked!" he added quickly. "We're going to talk!" 

"Ugh. Fine." Noctis headed out of Argy's bedroom. (The night nursery, Ignis had called it. The other one was the day nursery. Whatever. It was a bedroom and a play room.) 

Prompto made sure their boy was settled and turned on the the baby monitor. Then he took off the little radio attachment and carried it into the bedroom. 

Noct was wearing a pair of pyjamas, ready to doze off beneath the sheets. Prompto flicked the light on, which earned him a grumpy glare. He ignored it and sat on the other end of the bed, legs crossed, too far away for Noct to touch. 

The prince sat up against the headboard, watching him. "You wanted to talk?" He asked. 

Prompto fiddled with the edge of the design on the comforter. "When you said… when you told me to ...bite you," he swallowed, hating how his cheeks burned with a blush, "you were half asleep. I thought you were being sassy." 

"Maybe," Noct admitted, "but I mean it. I want you to bite me. If… if that's what you want." 

He felt something crumble in his chest. He wanted to cry. "Noct," he said, defeated. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself, please," he begged. 

"Do what?" Noct asked, confused. 

"Don't love me. Don't plan your life on me." 

"Prompto." He crawled across the bed, only coming close enough so he could touch his face. "I do love you. And I want to spend my life with you." 

"Please," he whispered, "Don't." 

"Prompto…" 

"I want you to be happy, Noct," he said, voice thick and eyes blurring over with tears. "And you can't with me. Not really. Not properly." 

"I am happy with you, Prompto," Noct insisted, stroking his cheek. "I'm so happy." 

"No, not really," he replied, shaking his head. "You need someone you can be with. Someone who can complete you." He reached up, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. Where the bond had probably been once upon a time. "Even if I bit you, even if it took... I _can't_ , Noct. You'd be stuck with a one-sided bond. Probably for the rest of your life, because there's no way Iggy would let you go to Altissia for a severance." 

Noctis leaned close, pressing his lips against Prompto's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his lips. "You're it for me, Prompto. You, and me, and our little Argentum. You're all I want in life." He kissed the other corner of his lips. "If you never let me touch you, if you never let me kiss you, tell you that I love you ever again—" He drew back so only his fingertips were touching his cheek. "If you just want to be friends, raising our boy together. It will be enough." 

"You deserve better," Prompto said, closing his eyes. 

"If there's 'better', I don't want it." Noctis removed his fingers and shuffled back across the bed. "And I'll wait for you. As long as I have to." When Prompto opened his eyes, he was tucking himself under the sheets. "Let's go to sleep. Our boy will be awake in two hours for a bottle anyway." 

Prompto sighed and nodded, shifting up the bed to lie on the other side of the mattress. He put the monitor on the bed between them, a sort of silent barrier. "Goodnight, Noct." 

"Goodnight Prompto. Sweet dreams." 

… 

When he woke up again, it was with a faint awareness of the time. It had been longer than two hours, he was sure. He opened his eyes, confused, but the bed was empty and the baby monitor missing. 

It was cold, still winter despite the central heating in the house. But he tugged a blanket over his shoulders and shuffled across the hall in his socks. He stopped in the open door of Argy's bedroom and leaned against the frame to watch. 

Noctis was in the cushioned rocking chair, slowly moving back and forth — Argy was resting on his chest, probably asleep. Noct's hand was resting on the slowly rising-and-falling back, and his voice was a deep and husky with tiredness. 

"And then one day, the princess came down from the tower, inflicted with great pains from the curse," he was murmuring, eyes closed as he rocked the chair with one foot. "She found the prince, and pleaded with him to help her. He did, and when the princess had broken the curse — she gave the prince the greatest gift of all. And the three of them lived… happily ever after." 

Prompto felt a soft look overcome his expression. "You finally finished it." 

Noctis turned his head to look at him, bringing the chair to a stop. "Did I wake you?" He asked softly. "I was trying to let you sleep in." 

"S'okay. I woke up anyway," he came over, carefully lifting Argy off of Noct's chest to tuck against his chest and take him back to the bassinet. "Ni-night little prince," he murmured, brushing hair away from his forehead. "See you in a couple hours." 

Prompto watched him for a moment, made sure he was settled, then turned back to the door. Noctis was waiting for him, a gentle smile on his face. "Coming to bed, Prom?" 

He nodded, shuffling closer. "Yeah." 

They were quiet as they got back into the bed, just the shuffling of fabric and sheets as they settled. Prompto took a deep breath in the silence, looking up at the roof. Noct's breath was deep and even beside him. He was pretty sure he was asleep already. It wasn't exactly a challenge for him. 

Slowly, carefully — trying to move just enough and not get noticed. He slid close until he was pressed up against Noct's chest, his face tucked into his shoulder. Noct didn't wake up — or react other than giving a content hum and shifting one arm to hold him in place. 

Prompto stayed there for a moment, just enjoying the closeness. Everything about their conversation earlier spinning through his head, their talk from the hospital, snippets of the conversations he could remember from the Tower. Could it be possible Noct was serious, that he was certain? That he wanted _Prompto_ of all people? 

Slowly, carefully, he parted his lips. Testingly, he set his teeth around the protruding collar bone just down from his neck. He didn't press in, just left them there. To see how it would feel. 

Noct's hand reached up, stroking through his hair. "Do it," he whispered, "if you're ready. I'm willing." He sounded way too awake for someone who had supposedly been asleep this whole time. 

Prompto hesitated, then pulled back his mouth. Shaking his head, he hid his face back in Noct's chest. "I can't. Not yet. I'm not ready yet." 

Noct nodded, fingers still drifting through the mess of his hair. "I'll be waiting. Whenever you're ready, Prompto." 

*** 

_His Majesty King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII is proud to announce the mating of Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum and Prompto Argentum, to be known henceforth as Crown Omega. The Citadel is celebrating this momentous occasion, but will not be making any commentary to the public at present._

The End.


End file.
